Homecoming
by hadleygirl
Summary: In the best tradition of JAG flashback episodes, the characters of NCIS in a World War II setting. What happens when Tony watches a WWII movie marathon but falls asleep?
1. Chapter 1

Anthony DiNozzo was home and bored…Or maybe restless was a better term. Four had gone on the initial trip to Israel but only three had returned. He had hoped Ziva would contact him; or, if not Tony, then Gibbs. But another week passed and there was still no word.

It had been a silly, stupid accident. Tony was still nursing a bum shoulder from the showdown with Rivkin. He thought it was getting better and had been doing more and more work without the sling. He was handing McGee a box of folders that Gibbs had requested when he felt his shoulder tweak. He had ignored it, at first, but when Gibbs rounded the corner and saw the dark red splotch covering DiNozzo's shoulder, he had gone almost postal. His final words to DiNozzo were not to show back up at NCIS for another week.

So, here he sat, alone in his apartment, the four walls closing in. No Ziva. No other girlfriends. And all his other coworkers were now busy covering his load, as well as the burden left with no Ziva.

Tony had always loved movies. When there was no family and no playmates, there was always a movie. Most summer days and nights were spent at the movieplex watching every movie showing. Or some afternoons, it was watching old B westerns that a local television channel would show. Sometimes, it was Saturdays and Sundays, renting movies and reliving the classics of Humphrey Bogart, Cary Grant or James Cagney.

His channel surfing of the cable networks was rewarded when he found a World War II movie marathon. He started his day with _The Sands of Iwo Jima_, followed by _The Flying Leathernecks_. By lunch time, he was involved with _Pearl Harbor_ followed by _From Here to Eternity_. By evening, he had watched a total of seven movies and had only moved for the occasional snack/food break and the obligatory bathroom run. He had just settled back into the couch for the evening features. It was _The Best Years of Our Lives_. Tony couldn't remember ever having seen the entire flick so he was looking forward to it. Thirty minutes after the opening credits, Anthony DiNozzo was sound asleep on his couch.

Funny thing about the subconscious mind – you never know where it's going to take you…


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's note: Several things you should be aware of from this point forward:_

_First, the characters are younger than they would be on the actual show but, really, it's a dream so...  
__Second, the information about the battles and sites from World War I & World War II are true; Thank you, Wikipedia.  
Third, it's not set in any specific small town; the actions, people and events could be from anywhere in the U.S.  
__Fourth, the guys were in the Army. While I know NCIS is Navy & Marines, Tony & Tim weren't either one in the service that I could ever find._

_I apologize for any errors or inconsistencies or inaccuracies in the rank and military information. I wasn't in the Service, either._

_

* * *

_

March 1946  
United States

The boys were returning home. It had been almost four years since they were drafted. They had trained and finally been assigned to the 83rd Infantry – Thunderbolt Division, stationed and fighting in Europe throughout the war.

Timothy McGee, now Sergeant McGee, had worked as a store clerk. His family, second generation Irish, had run the small hardware store as long as anyone could remember. Clean cut and quiet, very few people were surprised at how well he had done. His father and mother, Patrick and Hanna, waited at the station for the train to arrive. With them was Tim's high school sweetheart, Abigail Sciuto.

Abigail's family had fled Italy when Mussolini first came to power, seeing America as a port in the brewing storm. They joined a large Italian settlement already established in the small town. While they were first generation, most were second and third like the DiNozzo family.

The DiNozzo's owned a small restaurant in the town. Most people had thought it a foolish idea, paying for someone else to cook, until they tasted the Italian specialties of the DiNozzo family. The father, Antonio, Sr, and his wife, Isabella, had one son, Antonio, Jr. From the time he was old enough to walk, Tonio, or Tony, had been in that restaurant and his father expected him to take over the family business. Traditional values in a traditional family. The younger DiNozzo had other ideas.

He and Timothy had been friends a long time. Although Tony was a couple years older, they had been inseparable. Tony was the antithesis of Tim. Always a little rough around the edges, DiNozzo had been a bit of a brawler, skirting trouble with the law. Although Antonio Sr. had tried to keep a firm hand on his son, they continually butted heads. Isabella was the younger DiNozzo's only gentling influence. When she died unexpectedly, there was no longer a cushion between the DiNozzo men and their animosity exploded. Tony couldn't wait to leave it all – the town, the restaurant, and most of all, his father. The war and the draft provided the perfect exit.

What no one expected was how well military life agreed with the younger DiNozzo. The regimented lifestyle coupled with the danger and excitement presented the challenge the young man needed. His superiors were never disappointed and his field commission as an officer was indication of his performance. If anyone doubted his bravery, they need look no further than the Silver Star he was awarded for his actions. And now, First Lieutenant Antonio DiNozzo was on the train, returning from the war.

"Sir," Timothy reached across to wake the sleeping Anthony, "Sir, we're almost there. I can see the station."

Anthony, with his eyes still closed, replied, "Tim, how many times am I going to have to tell you to quit calling me 'sir'?"

Tim flushed, "Sorry, sir. I, uh, mean, Tony. It's just, you know, after all this time, it's ingrained in me."

Straightening up in the seat, he looked at Tim and smiled, although it didn't quite reach his eyes, and replied, "I understand but we're back in the states and will soon be civilians again so make an effort." He looked out the window at the passing scenery, "Besides, I would just as soon people not know I was an officer."

Tim was surprised, "But, Tony, why not? You earned that field commission. I know that better than anyone."

"Thanks, Tim, but, just keep it under your hat, okay?"

"Okay, but don't you think people are going to know something when they see the differences in our uniforms?" Tim replied reasonably.

"Maybe, but I'm counting on a little ignorance and your discretion. Understand, Sergeant?"

Tim smiled, "Yes, sir," knowing he had been given a veiled order.

Tim's excitement increased as they neared the train station while Tony's anxiety increased. As the train whistled its arrival, Tim was up and had his duffle bag over his shoulder before it even stopped. Tony was a little slower to follow.

Tim was at the exit and nearly leapt down before the locomotive finally slowed to a stop. Tony could hear the applause and cheers from inside the car. He wasn't surprised at the younger man's reception. Tim was a favored son of the city. He was a great basketball player and had led the high school team deep into the playoffs his junior and senior years. He had a younger sister who idolized him and his girlfriend's family had all but adopted him. Tim's family felt the same way about Abigail, who spent as much time at the McGee's home as she did her own. If there was any other way Tony could have exited from the train, he would have. Unfortunately, the station had only the one platform and they were in the only passenger car on this train. He took a deep breath and followed a few minutes behind the Sergeant.

To his surprise, he was also greeted by cheers and applause. Several of the town's men grabbed Tony's bag as he stepped down from the train. Many reached out to shake his hand or pat him on the back. He was ushered to a make-shift platform where Tim already stood with the mayor of their small town, Doctor Donald Mallard.

"It gives me the greatest pleasure to welcome home our two heroes, Sergeant Timothy McGee and First Lieutenant Antonio DiNozzo." The mayor began.

As the assembled crowd applauded again, Tim, smiling, leaned into Tony, "So much for keeping it a secret, huh?"

Tony gave Tim a warning glance and then turned his attention back to the mayor, "We know that for many towns and cities across our great state, the homecomings have not been so joyous and for that, and those sacrifices, we give them a moment of silent reflection."

Tony watched as many in the crowd bowed their heads. Doctor Mallard broke the silence, "We know that our two boys have been touched by those losses as well and we grieve with them. But, as it says in Ecclesiastes, 'There's a time to weep and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;' this is our time to laugh and dance as we celebrate their return. On behalf of the entire town council, welcome home, Timothy and Antonio."

And again, the crowd erupted in applause and cheers. The mayor shook both soldiers' hands and then encouraged them to go back into the waiting throng. From there, the scene became somewhat less chaotic. More people shook their hands or gave them hugs or friendly pats. But most began to drift away, returning to their lives and daily chores.

Tim's family and Abby's completely surrounded him and began to lead him away. It looked like a small parade to Tony. There was a mob of Italians and Irishmen, all very expressive, and each was trying to express himself but all at the same time. He laughed quietly and returned Tim's quick wave as he was all but carried off by the families.

It was then Tony realized that, except for a couple of people, he was by himself.

"The old S.O.B. couldn't even be bothered to close the restaurant long enough to greet his only son." Tony jerked his duffle bag roughly onto his shoulder and turned around only to be stopped in his tracks by dark green eyes.

Cali Gibbs had heard Tony's muttered comment and replied, "It's not what you think, Antonio."

"Do I know you?"

"Kind of. I work for your father in the restaurant. We met, albeit briefly, when you came home after basic training. I feel like I know you, after all the stories and things your father told me. I'm Cali Gibbs." And she extended her hand in greeting.

Tony looked at the proffered handshake but didn't take it. Instead, he looked up, accusingly, into the young woman's face. "Gibbs? As in Sheriff Leroy Jethro Gibbs?"

"Yes," she nodded, "he's my father."

From the corner of the depot, the Sheriff appeared. He had been quietly observing the events since the two men stepped off the train, but his primary focus had been DiNozzo.

Sheriff Gibbs and the young Antonio DiNozzo knew each other better than they cared to admit. While his actions had never gotten him into serious trouble with the law, Sheriff Gibbs had made Tony his personal project. He had put Tonio in jail more than once and each time had released him only after a blistering lecture. Gibbs had been relieved when DiNozzo was drafted. He knew from personal experience that time in the military could straighten up a wayward lad. The soldier that stood before him had proven that theory again.

As the Sheriff came into Tony's line of sight, the military training kicked in. Without realizing it, Tony had dropped his duffle bag and come to an almost perfect military attention. He stopped himself short of the salute.

"Lieutenant DiNozzo."

Cali had been, at first, insulted, that Tonio had not taken her hand. Watching his reaction to her father's appearance, she began to understand. She knew that the two had some history. And, although there wasn't quite fear in his eyes, there was a wariness. DiNozzo's response was respectful, but clipped.

"Sheriff Gibbs, sir. It's been awhile."

"Yes, it has, Lieutenant. The uniform looks good on you." And Gibbs placed an arm around his daughter.

"Thank you, sir. I was unaware you had a daughter, sir."

"Yes, well, you'll understand if I'm not all that disappointed that you didn't remember."

Tony blushed but nodded his head. He finally turned his attention back to the girl.

"You were saying something about why my father's not here."

Cali cast a quick glance at her dad and then continued, "You didn't get my letter?"

Tony shook his head, "No. Mail was not a regular occurrence on the front. I haven't seen any correspondence in nearly six months."

Gibbs cleared his throat as Cali continued, "I'm sorry, Antonio..."

He interrupted her, "Anthony, please? Or Tony? The only one who EVER called me by my full name was my father."

Cali smiled, "Yes, I'm afraid that's all I've ever heard you called. So, Anthony," she continued hesitatingly, "I'm sorry I really don't know how to tell you."

"Please, miss, just straight out with it."

"Very well, Anthony. I'm sorry to be the one to tell you but your father died."

Tony's eyes widened imperceptibly at the news. "When?" Was the simple reply.

"Almost three months ago. I wrote to you then, to tell you. I'm so very sorry."

"So the restaurant's closed?"

Cali looked to her father who was watching the younger man closely, "No, Tony, it's not closed. I've been running it."

"You? But, why?"

"Because your father wanted me to keep it open for you."

This was a revelation. This man that the Gibbs girl described sounded nothing like the man he knew. Tony needed time to sort through the information that he was being given.

"You alright, DiNozzo?" Sheriff Gibbs deeply timbered voice registered in the young man's brain.

"I'm fine, sir. Thank you." He looked into the older man's hazel eyes but they were unfathomable.

"Let us take you home?"

Tony shook his head, "No, sir. I think I need some time and the walk will do me good, but thank you."

Cali started to interrupt but her dad stopped her, "Alright, then, Lieutenant. Again, welcome home and we're sorry for your loss."

"I'll be at the restaurant by 9 in the morning." Cali supplied.

"Okay, Miss Gibbs. Whatever you want," was Tony's noncommittal reply. He nodded his goodbyes and picked up his duffle bag and Tony started the walk to his family's home and business.

Cali and Jethro watched him leave. Although his bearing was still precise and one of command, Jethro noticed the slight draw of the younger man's shoulders. There was something there. His gut told him so. What it was, exactly, he didn't know. He suspected this young man had much hurt and pain deep inside him. And, until he let it out, he would never be alright.


	3. Chapter 3

March 1946  
United States

Tony reached the restaurant and apartment he had called home for the first twenty-two years of his life. Hanging in the window was the banner indicating that the family here had someone serving in the military. That acknowledgment was another surprise for Tony.

He remembered vividly the argument he and his father had when Tony told him he had enlisted rather than waiting to be drafted. The older DiNozzo had been livid. Already concerns of events in Italy had drifted to families here in the U.S. and with Mussolini now linked to Hitler, it would make Antonio a target.

Tony had argued that his ability to speak Italian would be a great help to the U.S. Forces. It would also give Tony an opportunity to visit the old country and maybe, if the situation arose, help family still there. His father read the logic for what it was – Tony's desire to be away from and out from under the rule of his patriarch.

By force of habit, Tony walked around to the back of the business and up the staircase that connected the restaurant with the apartment. The key was where he knew it would be, on the ledge above the door. He entered quietly, hoping the ghosts would remain asleep.

As he turned on a few lights, he was struck by the cleanliness of the apartment. His father's focus was the restaurant. His mother's focus had been their home. There were no dust bunnies furrowing on the floor. The wood smelled as if recently oiled and polished. He walked towards his room and opened the door. The bed was made and the room smelled fresh, not like something closed up for over four years. He dropped his duffle bag in the room and pulled the door shut.

When he turned back around Tony was surprised to see Sheriff Gibbs standing in the open door way.

"Is there a problem, Sheriff?" Tony asked, walking back toward the dining room table, near the middle of the apartment.

Coming in and closing the door behind him, the Sheriff replied, "None that I know of, Anthony. I just thought you might want some answers."

Tony looked around the apartment still feeling a bit lost. "What answers would those be, sir?"

"Well, I guess that would depend upon the questions, son."

"Please, Sheriff, I am not your son." That tone of arrogance and disdain was the DiNozzo Gibbs remembered.

"Alright, Anthony." And Gibbs pulled out a chair to the table and made himself comfortable.

Tony didn't know how to react. His previous encounters with Sheriff Gibbs were never friendly yet here he was, offering to help, he guessed.

"How long did your daughter work for my father?" Tony finally asked, taking a chair opposite the sheriff.

"She went to work for him right after you and Timothy left. He put a 'help wanted' sign in his window and, unbeknownst to me, she applied for the job."

"She says we met, but I can't remember it." Tony replied apologetically.

"I'm sure a high school senior waiting tables wasn't high on your list of priorities when you came to see your dad last time."

"I think I would have remembered someone that looks like your daughter," Tony's response was given absent-mindedly.

Gibbs cleared his throat and stifled the glare he felt, "Let's just say she doesn't quite look now like she did then and leave it at that, shall we?"

For the second time today, Tony felt himself blush. "Was he sick long?"

Finally, Gibbs thought, interest in his father. Jethro knew that the father-son relationship was extremely strained. He had been called to this area of town many times after Anthony graduated high school, the shouting between the two men raising concerns among the neighbors. He hadn't realized just how distant they were until earlier today. Tony's basic non-reaction to the news of his father's death giving away his inner feelings.

"No, Tony, he wasn't. In fact, according to Cali, he had seemed just fine and in high spirits. He had received notification that you had been awarded your Silver Star. Cali also said that he couldn't wait to tell everyone that came through the door that night. In fact, he gave everyone free dessert to celebrate."

Again, something that got an emotional response from the young lieutenant, "That can't be. My father never expressed any pride or satisfaction in any of my efforts." The bitterness in Tony's tone was not lost on Gibbs.

"Believe what you will, Anthony, but Cali has no reason to make it up. She doesn't remember any of the confrontations between you and your father like I do."

"So what happened?" Tony asked.

"A couple of days later, he was working in the kitchen and called for Cali. He told her he couldn't breathe and he was going outside to try to get some fresh air. A couple of hours later, when he hadn't returned, she went out to check on him. He was already dead. Doctor Mallard said it was probably something with his heart."

"What about…" Tony paused, not knowing how to ask the next question without it sounding callous, "I mean, how was he cared for?"

Gibbs nodded his understanding, "Your father left detailed information." Jethro got up from the table and walked to a chest of drawers against the far wall. Opening the top drawer, he pulled out a stack of official looking papers and brought them back to Tony.

"He took a liking to Cali. I suspect because she has a bit of brashness that reminded him of your mother, or possibly, you. Whatever it was, he took her into his confidence. He told her where to look if anything ever happened."

"That's a lot of responsibility for a twenty year old, isn't it?" Anthony's tone was shocked.

"Yeah, it is. But who else was he going to get to do it, Anthony? You? You weren't here." Gibbs was blunt.

"So, the restaurant, what about that?" He chose to ignore Gibbs' statement.

"It's all right there, Anthony." He pointed to the stack of papers. "You'll find his written will, a letter of instruction to Cali and to me. There's his bank statement. He had plenty of money to take care of his arrangements."

Tony nodded, glad that there wasn't someone else he was going to have to talk to about the situation.

"You'll also find the notifications from the army about your promotion and your commendation that were sent to your father."

Tony leafed through the papers as Jethro continued to speak. He had never thought his dad would find out about his situation but Tony guessed it made sense. He had to list his next of kin in the event he was killed. Antonio DiNozzo, Sr. was that person.

"There's one more thing I think you're going to want to read." And Gibbs reached into the stack of papers and removed an envelope. Tony recognized the heavy scrawl immediately. It was his father's.

"I don't think it'll answer all your questions but it may shed some light on why he did what he did. Read the will first, his letter to Cali and, then, the letter to you. I believe you'll have a better understanding." And Gibbs stood to leave.

Tony looked up to the older man, "Do you know what it says?"

Gibbs shook his head, "No, but I know what I'd write to my son in the same situation."

Tony nodded and stood up, following Gibbs as he walked to the door. Gibbs stopped and looked at the lieutenant. He started to speak but changed his mind. Instead Gibbs put his hand on Anthony's shoulder.

"I know right now you're a little unsure about everything. Suddenly, enemies appear to be friends; friends are no where to be found; and all the things in your life that you thought you could count on aren't there. You may find help in unusual places, DiNozzo. Just don't be too proud or too stubborn to ask."

And Gibbs left.

Tony turned back around and went into the small kitchen. Opening a couple of cupboards, he found the bottle he was looking for. Taking a glass from the shelf, he poured the whiskey straight and downed it. He poured a second shot and downed it as well. The third one he poured, he carried back to the table, with the bottle in his other hand, and began reading his father's words from the grave.

The will was straight forward. Everything that had belonged to Antonio DiNozzo, Sr was left to his only son. That consisted of the apartment and all its furnishings and the restaurant and everything in it. Tony was surprised to see that there was no debt owed on any of it. Mr. DiNozzo had a small bank account for the business that Cali kept meticulously. The statements were attached for his review. To the young Cali Gibbs, his father had left a small necklace. Tony had found it was still in the envelope with the will. He would see that his father's wishes were carried out.

The letter to Cali was interesting. In it, he left instructions that she was to manage the restaurant as she saw fit. She could hire and fire at her discretion provided Tony, as owner, approved. In Tony's absence, she was the defacto owner. Also in the letter, Tony's father had provided that, in the event something happened to the younger DiNozzo, the restaurant would become Cali's on her 24th birthday, provided Mr. Gibbs agreed. Apparently, Sheriff Gibbs knew about this because his signature and a small note indicated he accepted, with gratitude, the gift Mr. DiNozzo was giving his daughter. Anthony was not surprised. His father's greatest possession was that damned restaurant. He knew, if nothing else was taken care of, it would be.

He poured his fourth glass and finally decided he had nerve enough to read the letter from his father. The words swam before him but Tony knew it had nothing to do with the whiskey. In his father's broken English and sometimes, Italian interspersed, Tony read his father's words. He told Tony of the pride he felt in his son's accomplishments. He was honored to have a son who was a hero. While he hadn't liked the fact that Antonio had left, he had only done what the older DiNozzo had done years before. Left the family business, left his own father, to make a way in the world. Antonio, Sr knew this but he hated to see his only son leave just the same. He wished his son a long and happy life. A beautiful wife, like his mother had been, and many wonderful children, not unlike the wonderful son Antonio, Sr had. It was the last paragraph that had made Tony finally break. "The restaurant is yours. I have Cali keeping watch for you, to keep it prosperous, but ultimately, itsa yours. Keep it ifa you want. Sell it if it's you wish. You, Antonio, and your happiness and welfare are my only love, never the restaurant."

"Tony, why do you cry?" The dark haired woman had appeared as he finished reading the letter a second time.

"What took you so long?" Anthony's speech was finally slurred, the whiskey numbing his brain.

"There were other more important things, but you did not answer. Why do you cry?" She asked again.

"My father, it appears, loved me after all. He just never knew how to tell me."

"Seems to be a problem with DiNozzo men, yes?"

"Maybe," Tony put his head down on the desk, mumbling as he went to sleep, "Maybe so."

And the woman disappeared.


	4. Chapter 4

March 1946  
United States

Cali Gibbs unlocked the restaurant door at 9:00 am sharp. Ten minutes later, Abigail Sciuto joined her.

"So, how's Timmy?" Cali asked as she entered.

The smile that broke on Abby's face was brighter than the sun. "He's truly the most special man in the whole wide world! I am so glad he's home, Cali. He's safe and happy. It was a wonderful evening. Most everyone was still up at 1 or 2 this morning."

Abby was a couple of years older than Cali. When Mr. DiNozzo has turned over the running of the restaurant to her, she had immediately hired Abby to help. She was wonderful with the customers and she brought her mother's Italian recipes to supplement Mr. DiNozzo's.

The two girls started their normal routine, getting the dough ready to make breadsticks; checking the pantry for any ingredients for sauces that they might be lacking; and, planning the special they would serve throughout the day. Abby also started making the filling for the tiramisu that had become a restaurant favorite.

Upstairs in the apartment, Tony had finally found his bed around 1 am. He, as yet, hadn't unpacked his duffle bag and hadn't made his way into his father's room. He would need another bottle of whiskey to make that trip.

Try as he might to sleep late, his body clock told him when 6 am rolled around. He had cleaned up and then sorted through a few other things in the top drawer Sheriff Gibbs had shown him last night. He had finally made his way into the office in the back of the restaurant and was working there when the girls came in.

He had listened quietly to their chatter, enjoying the sounds of laughter and teasing. He could just pick out the slight hint of Italian accent as Abby spoke. Tony figured it was a skill left from the time spent overseas. Cali's voice was different. It had a deeper, richer timbre not unlike her father's. He remembered the necklace and slipped out and back upstairs before the girls realized he had been eavesdropping.

He was back down, this time making his presence known.

"Miss Gibbs?" He called as he entered the restaurant.

Cali and Abby shared a look. Cali responded, "In here." And began wiping flour from her hands.

Tony made his way upfront to the nearest table where the two girls worked on the day's menu items.

"I believe, Miss Gibbs, you and I need to talk."

Cali knew this conversation would come when DiNozzo the younger returned. She just hadn't figured on it being on his second day home. She joined him in the back office where Tony had taken the seat behind the desk.

"Sit, please?" he motioned to the other chair.

Cali eased down and waited.

"I wanted to thank you for taking such good care of my father. He obviously had great trust and respect for you. He certainly placed a great deal of responsibility on you. Responsibility, I'm sorry to say, that rightly should have been mine to bear."

"But you were serving our country, Antonio. He understood that." She had slipped back into the familiar name. Try as she might, Cali just couldn't think of him as Tony or Anthony. He was Antonio or Tonio, as she had begun calling him to differentiate him from his dad.

Tony smiled at the use of the name but chose not to correct her as he had only yesterday. "Well, regardless, I am grateful and wanted you to know that."

He paused, gathering his thoughts and choosing his next words carefully, "It was my father's wish for you to continue as manager. I know the restaurant has been profitable and the decisions you've made appear quite sound. As you know, my father did leave the business to me but I've been away too long to know how it runs day to day. You'll get no interference from me. I trust you will stay?"

Cali was overjoyed. All over the United States, women had had to fill male jobs and male roles while the same males were fighting in Europe and the Pacific. Now that the war was over, the women were being asked to go back home and let the men have their jobs. Cali had been afraid that would be the case here. She loved the restaurant. Thrived on the business end and meeting the people. Tonio had just granted her second greatest wish.

"Of course, Tonio. Thank you very much." She jumped up and around the desk to hug her boss.

Tony was surprised. First, by the use of the nickname given to him by his mother. Secondly, by her reaction and easy affection. Cali continued to stand by his desk after breaking the hug as he continued.

"I guess I have you to thank as well for the upkeep of the apartment?"

Cali smiled sheepishly. "I just didn't think it was right for you to come back to a dust filled, musty home. I wasn't sure which room you would use so I did clean linens in both bedrooms. I'm sorry if I was familiar."

He smiled at her choice of words, "No. It was a nice welcome. Much more than I truly expected. However, there is one thing you can answer for me."

"Yes, Tonio?"

He liked the way she said his name. "My father wanted you to have this. Why is it still in my possession?"

And he held the necklace for her inspection. Cali's answer was forthright.

"I know it belonged to your mother, Tonio. Even though your father singled it out for me, he also said that everything in the apartment and the restaurant was yours. In my mind, that included the necklace. I thought it should be your right to choose to whom it was given."

Tony stood a good foot taller than Cali so it was easy to drape the necklace and secure it while he faced her.

"His wishes were specific, Miss Gibbs. This belongs to you." He watched the pearl teardrop fall gently into her cleavage, just above the swell of her breasts. "You know, pearls get their luster from the women who wear them. That one was definitely meant for you."

Cali fingered the teardrop pearl as Tony's words washed over her. His voice held authority and affection. A woman could get lost in that voice.

"Now, what can I do to help?"

She was surprised by the offer. "Nothing if you don't want to. Abby and I are used to doing most of the work. Your father trusted us with more and more but he still liked to cook."

He followed her back to the kitchen where Abby had already started the pasta sauce. He grabbed a spoon and took a quick taste.

"That's not my father's recipe." He said accusingly.

Abby turned, a worried look as she replied, "No, Mr. DiNozzo. It's my mother's. We changed it a few weeks after your father passed."

DiNozzo smiled, "That's fine, Abby. I like this one better anyway."

Cali and Abby didn't realize they'd been holding their breath until he spoke. "But what about the rest of the dishes. Are they yours or mine?"

Cali answered, "A little of both. Your father shared all of his recipes with me. I wrote them down so I would have them. Some things people liked. Some things they liked better when we used Abby's mother's recipe. The main thing is they're all authentic family recipes. That's what's important. That's what your father wanted."

Abby nodded in agreement and then began making pasta. The lunch diners would be arriving in another hour and there was still dessert to make. To make himself useful, Tony followed Cali to the main dining room where he began covering the tables and placing the settings, napkins and plates. He added the glasses and water pitchers. All chores he had done years ago in preparing the restaurant to open.

He thought he had grieved last night but the memories assailed him fast and furious. The sounds and smells reminded him of his mother and, amazingly enough, his father, too. Another life lost that Tony couldn't stop. In his mind's eye, he suddenly saw scenes of war. He heard the cries of his comrades. More lives he couldn't save. He looked up and off and there she stood, the black haired woman who had joined him last night. His hands began to shake.

Cali had asked Tony a question. She repeated it once again and he still stood, frozen to the spot, the glass in his still shaking hand. Then, he began to squeeze.

Cali yelled, "Tonio!" at the same time Tony shattered the glass.

Both events brought him quickly to his senses. He grabbed a napkin from the nearest table and wrapped it around his hand that had started to bleed. He then turned on the girl.

Yelling he answered, "I have asked you nicely not to call me that. Now I am telling you. My name is Anthony or Tony and if that's too much for you, Miss Gibbs, you may simply call me Mr. DiNozzo."

And he stomped past her, slamming the front door on his way out. Cali's face fell. From where she stood inside the kitchen door, Abby called, "What was that all about?"

Cali turned to her friend, confusion in her voice, "I have absolutely no idea." And she grabbed the broom and began sweeping up the glass that covered the floor.

* * *

Tony found himself in a bar several blocks away from the restaurant. He took a seat in a back booth, attempting to compose himself. The bartender, another young, fresh faced kid, suddenly appeared.

Dropping a napkin on the table, he asked, "What can I get you?"

"Whiskey, straight up."

The bartender nodded his head and turned to leave when Tony stopped him, "Make it the whole bottle…" he paused, waiting for a name.

The bartender smiled, "It's Jimmy. Jimmy Palmer. Right away, Lieutenant DiNozzo."

As he brought the bottle and a glass, Tony stopped him again. "Do I know you, Mr. Palmer?"

"No, sir. I was at the station yesterday. Heard the mayor introduce you then."

Tony smiled and reached for his wallet. Jimmy stopped him, "The first one's on me."

Tony thanked him and still gave the bartender a ten dollar bill. "Let me know when that runs out, okay?"

Jimmy nodded and went back to washing glasses and listening to the radio behind the bar.

Tony started on his second bottle in less than 24 hours.

* * *

Twelve hours later found Tony still at the bar. He had gone through his third bottle of whiskey and Jimmy had started a tab. Tony refused to eat, preferring his nourishment in liquid form. He had not gotten loud or rowdy, but Palmer was concerned how the young soldier was going to find his way home. So he did the only thing he knew to do. Palmer called Sheriff Gibbs.

Gibbs came in through the back door, catching Palmer's eye as he did so. By 11:00 pm the bar had plenty of patrons and Gibbs didn't want to do anything to hurt Jimmy's business. The bartender pointed toward the booth just around the corner from where Gibbs stood and then went back to work. Jethro peaked around the side to see DiNozzo trying to pour another glass from a now empty bottle.

"Well, hello, DiNozzo." Gibbs rich voice washed over Tony. He looked up, trying to focus on the older man.

His speech, more slurred than even the night before, he replied, "Hello, Sherf Bibbs. Wanna drink?" He held up the empty bottle and waved it around.

Gibbs smiled, "No, thanks, Anthony. I'm on duty and can't be seen drinking in here. But, you know," he paused. Tony looked up as the Sheriff slid into the booth, "If you came back to my office with me, we could have a drink there."

Tony smiled sloppily, "Really? Okay, let's go." And he tried to slide past Gibbs. Gibbs grabbed the younger man's arm and helped him out of the booth and out the back door, nodding to Jimmy as he left.

He poured DiNozzo into the squad car and had him back at the jail in ten minutes. The whole ride, Tony babbled, not making sense to anyone but himself. As Gibbs escorted him into the jail and onto a cot in a cell, Tony said, "I thought we were going to drink?"

Gibbs nodded, "We will but you need to sit here while I go get the bottle, okay?"

Like a little boy being promised a treat, DiNozzo nodded, "Okay, right here." And slapped at the cot. He missed the edge and wound up falling onto the bed.

Gibbs shook his head and rolled Tony the rest of the way up onto the cot. He grabbed a trash can from the desk and put it beside the bed. Covering Tony with a wool blanket, he spoke quietly, "Get some sleep, Anthony. We'll have that drink later."

Tony nodded and was soon snoring. Gibbs closed the cell door but didn't lock it. Grabbing a chair, he pulled it close to the cell and got comfortable. It was going to be a long night and Anthony DiNozzo was going to be a bear in the morning.


	5. Chapter 5

September 1944  
Luxembourg

The 83rd Infantry had been in France and Luxembourg since August. They had encountered several attacks and counterattacks as they continued their push toward Germany. They had finally bivouacked in a small town on the outskirts of the Moselle. Sergeant DiNozzo and Private First Class McGee were making the final picket of their watch. An unexpected rain from the night before had made the rutted road muddy and treacherous to travel in places. They were talking quietly as they patrolled.

"Tony, up there," Tim motioned toward a pushcart stuck in the mud and the young woman working to get it out.

As they approached cautiously, Tony asked, in German, "Do you speak English?"

The woman turned at the sound of the voice. In accented English, she replied, "I do."

The two men shouldered their weapons and came closer. "Looks like you could use some help." Tim stated the obvious.

She smiled and Tony's heart melted on the spot. Beautiful didn't begin to describe the girl. Dark hair, pulled back, revealed a heart shaped face, sunned and freckled. The smile had gone straight to her eyes and also revealed a slight dimpling in her cheek. Her frame was sturdy but not fat, a woman used to hard work. "I would certainly appreciate it if you could assist me." She said.

The cart was full of clothes, bundled and tied in neat stacks. There were also two average sized black kettles and several boxes of soaps and powders. The weight had forced one of the large side wheels to bog down in the mud up to the spoke.

"I think a little muscle can take care of this," and Tony handed Tim his weapon and lined up behind the wheel. The young woman stepped next to Tim to let the other soldier work.

Tony was a tall man. As a teenager, he'd always had trouble adjusting to his size, seemingly ungainly in his carriage. He had played basketball as that was the only organized team sport the high school had. He had made a fairly decent center but running, shooting, dribbling – let's face it, Tony was not the player you wanted to handle the ball. Now, his time in the army, carrying the heavy packs, the hand-to-hand combat drills and other athletic pursuits had sculpted the body into solid muscle.

The cart wheel moved and rolled forward quickly. In fact, too quickly, as Tony didn't have time to regain his footing before it moved. Suddenly, the Sergeant was in the mud, face down, where the cart had once been.

The woman quickly grabbed the pushcart to move it into more solid ground as Tim helped up his muddied friend.

The girl, trying not to laugh, failed miserably. "I am so terribly sorry."

Tony was covered in mud. He tried to wipe his face but his hands were muddier. Tim wanted to help but DiNozzo stopped him with a look.

"That's alright, ma'am. At least you can get on now." And, somewhat embarrassed, Tony turned to leave. Tim nodded a farewell and ran to join the senior officer but the girl's voice stopped them.

"But, wait! I don't know the names of the gallant officers who saved me."

Tony turned around, still somewhat abashed at the events, but responded, "I'm Antoni…Sergeant Anthony DiNozzo. This is Private Timothy McGee."

"Well, Sergeant. Private. As you can see, I do laundry for others around here. I believe, Anthony, that you might have need of my services. Bring your uniform up there." And she pointed towards a farm house only a few clicks from where the bulk of their tents were set. "It's the least I can do."

Tony nodded and started back down the road..

"You might tell your comrades, Private. I don't have any fixed rates. I am willing to barter these services."

"Do you have a name, ma'am?" Tim asked in response.

"Yes. It's Ziva."

Tim nodded and ran to catch up with his friend. The young woman watched them leave and then headed up the hill to her small farm.

Farther down the road, Tim and Tony met up with one of the commanding officers, First Lieutenant John Carson. The two soldiers immediately snapped to attention.

"DiNozzo, what the hell happened to you?" Carson barked.

"Well, sir," Tony began, looking straight ahead, but Tim interrupted.

"It was my fault, sir. I thought I saw something and when the Sergeant told me to take cover he, unfortunately, had the muddy side of the road."

Tony glanced quickly at his friend and then back to the C.O. He wasn't sure he bought the story. Carson knew these two covered for each other regularly. But, the one thing Carson knew for sure, in a fight, he wanted DiNozzo and McGee with him.

"Alright, Private, you're dismissed." Tim saluted and left quickly. Turning back to Tony, "You, on the other hand, DiNozzo, need to get cleaned up and report to the Major right away. He needs to see you."

"Yes, sir." He saluted as well and double timed it to his tent.

Once inside, his tent mate, Sergeant Trent Kort, stopped him. "I know mud baths are supposed to be good for you but aren't you supposed to undress first?"

"Shut up, Trent." Tony grumbled as he quickly stripped and changed into clean fatigues. "The Major wants to see me."

"What have you done now, wop?" Kort used the slang term when he was in a mood to harass his bunk mate.

Tony glared but didn't stop to argue, "I have no idea. Thought I'd kept my head low enough to avoid confrontation, but I guess not." He looked in the small mirror they used for shaving and then turned to Trent, "Am I presentable?"

"Yeah, you'll do. Get back here quick so I'll have the skinny, eh?"

Tony nodded and then headed quickly back out to the Major's tent. Waiting outside was Lieutenant Carson, who nodded when Tony arrived. The Major's right hand, Captain Gerard, motioned the two inside. Both men quickly saluted their commanding officer.

Returning the salute, Major Fornell ordered, "At ease, gentlemen." As the men shifted to parade rest, the Major continued, "I have some good news for both of you. You're being promoted. Your commissions were just approved."

The men shared a quick glance as neither knew they were being considered. "Congratulation, Captain Carson." As the Major shook his hand, Captain Gerard changed out his 1st Lieutenant's bar for the double bars. Then the major turned to Tony.

"I must say, DiNozzo, it's much nicer to have you in here for this than our usual discussions."

"Yes, sir. Thank you." And as the Major shook his hand, Captain Carson was handed the bar, indicating DiNozzo's new rank. "Congratulations, Second Lieutenant."

The Major stepped aside and let Carson do the honors. He then turned back to the new officers, handing them each a glass. He then passed one to Gerard. Clinking the glasses, the officers "wet down" the new ranks.

Draining the last of his glass, the Major dismissed Carson and Gerard but kept DiNozzo behind.

"One more thing, Lieutenant," he handed DiNozzo an official looking envelope. "I thought you might like the honor of awarding your friend, McGee, his new promotion."

Tony's chest puffed out, "Really, sir, may I?"

"Yes, you may. Also, I've been told there's a woman near here that will do laundry. Heard anything about it?"

News traveled quickly in a camp this size, "Yes, sir. McGee and I met her earlier."

"Take Kort and McGee with you and check her out. If you think it's safe, spread the word to the rest of the men." Tony nodded and then was dismissed.

He took the time to quickly look at his bar, indicating his new rank, and made the way to Tim's tent.

"Tim?" Tony stuck his head in.

McGee replied, "Yeah, Tony. Come in. I was just…" And McGee suddenly noticed the new insignia on Tony's uniform. Tim kicked his tent mate who also recognized the officer's designation and they quickly saluted.

Tony was caught off guard but returned the salute, "That's not necessary. At least, not in here, guys."

"Yes, sir." Was Tim's reply.

Tony only shook his head and then became serious. "Well, McGee, it seems you're out of uniform. Think I need to put that on report?"

"No, sir. But how am I…" he looked his uniform up and down to try to discern what Tony was talking about. He looked back to his friend who only smiled and opened the envelope. From it he removed the commendation and the new stripes indicating the Private's promotion to Corporal.

"I think you need another stripe, Corporal." Tony shook his friend's hand. "Congratulations, McGee. The Major gave me the honor."

Tim, like Tony, was a bit awed. Tony continued, "You need to come with me. We're getting Kort and the three of us are going to check out that laundress we met."

Tim gathered his things and they picked up Sergeant Kort, who was shocked at Tony's news. "That's fine but I'm still going to call you 'wop' if you piss me off."

"So long as it's Wop, sir." Tony teased.

The three of them made their way to the farm house Ziva, the laundress, had indicated earlier. Tony had grabbed his muddied uniform to bring with him.

They knocked on the door and were given access when she recognized the faces of the two American soldiers.

"You brought your uniform, Anthony?" she asked, holding out her hand.

Kort raised an eyebrow at the exchange, but kept his mouth shut, "Just as you agreed, Ziva."

"Please, sit. I don't have much but what I have I share."

"You don't sound German, miss." Kort observed, taking a seat at the table, situated near an open hearth.

"That's because I'm not German, Sergeant." Was her reply.

Tony replied, "Before I can refer your services, Ziva, I have to make sure our men will be safe."

"I can assure you, Anthony, they will not be in danger. I am not German or a German spy. I have no love for the Germans at all."

"Many say that, miss." Trent accused.

"Trust me, Sergeant, I mean it." She paused and then finished, "I am a Jew."

The men turned to stare at her. Tim spoke first, "Are the stories true then?"

She nodded, "The Germans have, indeed, rounded up many of the Jews, moving them to either slums or work camps. That is how my husband and I became separated."

"You're married, then?" Tony asked.

"We are as good as married but it was not consummated. We were separated before the union could be blessed."

Tony nodded as Trent asked, "And your husband?"

"I haven't heard from him in over a year. We have an agreement to meet in Paris once the war is over. We will wait on each other for six months. If one or the other doesn't show, we know to move on with our lives."

The men were struck by the finality. Each knew that any minute could be the last but to hear it spoken of so matter of fact by one not much younger than the three of them made it almost too real to bear.

"What is your husband's name?" Tim asked.

"Michael Rivkin."

"So, Mrs. Rivkin," Tony started.

Ziva shook her head, "No, I still use my last name, David."

"Very well, then, Ziva, I think you'll soon have a trail of American G.I.'s at your door. I'll be advising my commanding officer that you're safe."

She reached out and grabbed Tony's hand. The harsh soaps and water should have made her hands rough and yet, Tony didn't seem to notice. He only noticed how good it felt and how perfectly it seemed to fit.

"I am most grateful, Anthony." Again, the smile lit her face, all the way to her eyes.

Trent and Tim exchanged a glance, knowing that the two of them were forgotten. They quietly exited the farm and waited just outside the door.

Tony looked again at her hand in his and then back into her sparking eyes, "You're most welcome, Ziva."


	6. Chapter 6

March 1946  
United States

"Ziva," Tony uttered the words in his sleep and then caught himself. Sitting straight up from the bed, he tried to remember where he was and what he had done. The quick motion caused his stomach to clench. He dove for the trash can next to his feet.

Outside the cell, Jethro had been watching Tony. First, he had wanted to make sure that the young man didn't get sick in the night from all the alcohol he had consumed. Secondly, he wanted to make sure that Tony knew, again, he could come to him for help. But, mostly, he had hoped he might get some emotional response out of the boy that would push him to heal from the scars he so obviously hid.

When he was sure Tony was through, he opened the cell door and handed him a glass of water.

"Drink, DiNozzo," the Sheriff ordered.

DiNozzo shook his head and in a pitiful reply answered, "I don't think I can."

"It's water. You need it."

Tony took the cool water and downed it immediately.

"When's the last time you ate solid food, boy?"

Tony looked through bleary eyes at the Sheriff and tried to remember. When he took longer than he should have to answer, Gibbs replied. "That's what I figured. Stay here while I go get you something."

"Don't worry, sir. I'm not moving." And Tony laid back down on his upset stomach on the cot, his head hanging off the side, close to the trash can.

Gibbs smiled and left to go find the soldier something that wouldn't be too hard on his stomach. He found bread and ham still in the refrigerator from Gibbs' lunch the day before. He threw together the sandwich and went back into the holding cell. Dragging his chair closer to the bed, he put the sandwich down and grabbed the trash can. Putting it outside to hose down later, Gibbs grabbed a second one from a nearby desk and replaced it in the cell. He also got another big glass of water for the boy to drink. He gently nudged DiNozzo.

Gingerly, Tony sat back up on the cot and took the sandwich. He took a few bites and followed that with another glass of water. Gibbs sat quietly while the young man slowly returned to his senses.

"Better?" Gibbs asked.

Tony nodded his head, replying, "Yes, sir, some. Why am I here? Did I do something?"

Gibbs smiled, "No, Tony, not this time. Palmer was concerned for your welfare and called me. I figured it would be easier to deal with you here than in your home."

"So, I'm not under arrest? I'm free to go?"

"Whenever you feel well enough to get up and go," was Gibbs reply.

Tony nodded, "Thank you, sir. For everything."

Gibbs said, "No problem, DiNozzo." And headed for the cell door. He stopped, just short of leaving and turned back to the young man, "By the way, who's Ziva?"

Tony's head jerked up as if he'd been slapped. If he'd had any traces of fog left, they cleared instantly at the question. He answered, "Why do you ask?"

"You called her name several times during the night. I just wondered what the significance was."

Tony stood, "There is no significance, Sheriff." Tony's tone lacked any emotion at all. He walked directly to the Sheriff, trying to leave the cell but Gibbs still blocked the exit.

"You know, Tony, you're not the only one who's suffered loss and been through the trials of war. I knew a young man, once, much like you. His experiences in World War I effected him so much upon his return to the States that it nearly cost him the only person he ever loved."

"What happened?" Tony's curiosity, in spite of himself, was piqued.

"Go talk to Doctor Mallard. He can tell you the whole story." Gibbs moved aside to let Tony pass but not before adding, "But don't wait too much longer, Anthony. Trust me, you won't find your answers at the bottom of a whiskey bottle and drinking alone just makes the ghosts come all that much quicker."

Tony froze in his tracks and looked back at the Sheriff. Gibbs face wore a knowing smile. Tony started to speak and then changed his mind. With a nod, he left the jail and the annoying Sheriff Gibbs behind.

* * *

Tony looked at his watch as he walked down the street towards the apartment. He shook his head. It was 4pm and he had lost almost a full day. A quick glance inside the restaurant, as he made the block saw the girls cleaning up and getting ready for the supper rush. As he made the back stairs, the smells of garlic and onion and the cooking sauces caused Tony's stomach to lurch again. He emptied his stomach of the few bites of sandwich Sheriff Gibbs had given him and made it up to his rooms.

Once inside, Tony stripped and bathed and took several aspirin to quiet the drumming in his head. Changing into denim jeans and a white t-shirt, he really didn't know what he was going to do next. Part of him wanted to go back to Palmer's; part of him wanted to talk more to the Sheriff about his mysterious and sudden interest in DiNozzo; part of him wanted to crawl into bed and cover up his head and never come out; and, part of him wanted to die, just to stop the constant pain he couldn't seem to escape.

The knock at the door pulled Tony from his darker thoughts. Opening it, he found his best friend, Tim, standing there, holding a small covered pot.

"Tony?" Tim asked, "May I come in?"

"Please," and Tony stepped aside letting the younger man in the apartment. Closing the door behind him, Tony followed the smell that drifted from the pot. "Tell me that contains Hanna McGee's famous potato soup?"

"It does indeed contain my mother's soup. Since you won't come to the house, she sent me here." Tim grabbed a bowl from the pantry and spooned it full of the steaming liquid. He got a spoon from the drawer and set the bowl on the table, pulling out the chair and motioning for Tony to sit.

DiNozzo didn't have to be told twice. The smell alone had his mouth watering and he had half of it downed before he remembered his manners.

"Did you want some?"

Tim smiled, "No, it was made for you. Heard you tied one on over at Palmer's and I thought you might need something to get you back to normal."

Tony lowered his spoon and looked at McGee, "This is why you're my best friend, Tim. You're always there for me when no one else is."

Tim lowered his head, struck by the emotion in Tony's voice. McGee tried to lighten the mood, "Well, there might have been another reason I came."

Tony finished the last bite of the soup before looking at Tim and smiling, "Oh, you mean the other young lady that works in the restaurant downstairs?"

Tim smiled back, "Yeah, I heard you were going to keep it open."

"Might as well. Between Cali and Abby, it pretty much runs itself." Tony leaned back in the chair as he spoke. "So why don't you go down and see her?"

"During the supper rush? Are you kidding? Abby would have my head."

Tony stood up and returned his bowl and spoon to the sink. Turning back to Tim, he said, "Come on, let's go."

Together, they went downstairs to the restaurant and entered the kitchen through the back door. Abby was up to her ears in sauce and spaghetti but turned as the door opened. Squealing in delight, she dropped the dipper back into the sauce and ran to hug and kiss Tim.

Realizing Tony was standing there, too, she quickly apologized, "I'm sorry, Mr. DiNozzo. I shouldn't have done that."

Tony shrugged, "Why not? He's your boyfriend."

She grinned and turned back to the stove. Tony had an idea. "Abby, is there anything else that has to be actually cooked?"

She turned back to her boss, "No, sir. It's mostly just serving what we've got. Besides, there's only about an hour left before we close for the night."

Tony winked at Tim and then looked at Abby, "Give me your apron, Abigail, and get out."

She squealed again, "You mean it? Really?" but she was already untying the strings.

"I mean it." He nodded as Tony took the apron and put it over his head.

"You sure about this Tony?" Tim asked cautiously.

"I'm sure. I think I still know my way around. Now get, both of you before I loose my nerve and change my mind."

Both smiled and, hand in hand, exited out the back door just as Cali entered through the kitchen door.

"Abby, where's my…" She looked at a smiling Tony, "Where's Abby?"

"She left with Tim." He replied.

"And how am I supposed to serve these people up front?" Cali's voice was agitated.

"One plate of spaghetti, coming up. Is that meat sauce or meatballs?"

Cali eyed him warily, "Sauce only, _Mister_ DiNozzo."

Tony flinched at her tone but handed her the plate. He noticed his hands only shook a little. She took the bowl, eyed Tony again, and then went back to serve the food.

The next hour passed quickly. Tony kept the plates coming as Cali came back and forth with orders. A little after 9:00 pm, she told him the last customer was gone.

Tony started cleaning up the kitchen. The sauce would be saved and used for tomorrow's lasagna. The desserts would be covered and put in the large walk-in freezer. The only thing that would be thrown out was the pasta. He washed the large pots and pans and the few remaining dishes that he hadn't gotten to earlier. When all the dishes were clean, he put them away, readying the kitchen for work tomorrow. Tony finished by wiping down the stove top and the oven and sweeping and mopping the floor.

After finishing that, he joined Cali out front. She had already stripped the table cloths and napkins and set them to wash. The clean silverware had been wrapped and readied for tomorrow in between patrons. Cali was just putting the last of the chairs on the tables to begin sweeping up. Tony grabbed the broom and did that while Cali took the wet cloths and hung them to dry overnight on the lines outside the back of the restaurant.

When Tony finished, he sat down on the counter top, as he had done when he was younger, and looked around the restaurant. He caught a glimpse of himself in the large window and examined his appearance. The clothes hung loosely on his frame. His t-shirt showed the sweat stains of hard, hot work over the stoves in the kitchen. He also found various pasta sauce drips. Tony didn't have to worry too much about his hair as it was still in the "high & tight" military cut. Cali suddenly appeared in front of him.

"Why'd you do it?" Cali asked

"Do what?"

"Work tonight and let Abby leave?"

"I don't know. It just felt like the right thing to do. Besides, I think I wanted to prove to myself that I could still do the work."

Cali smiled, "Well, you did good, Mr. DiNozzo."

He inwardly cringed at the use of his given name. He knew why she was doing it. He did remember that scene from yesterday.

"Look, Miss Gibbs, about what I said…"

"It's alright, sir. My father warns me all the time about being too familiar with people."

There was that term again. "What do you mean?"

Cali sighed, "I get wrapped up in people to the point that I feel like I know them. But, my dad says I really don't. Like you, for instance."

_This should be good_, Tony thought, as the girl continued, "I've heard the stories of you from your father. He showed me a few pictures. He talked always about you and your mother. How your mother's nickname for you was 'prezioso Tonio' – 'precious Tony'. I just thought, I could see that, how your mother would call you that."

All during her speech, she had been worrying the teardrop pearl between her fingers. As she continued to talk, Tony gently pulled the necklace from her hands and let it drop back to its resting place. With his other hand, he pulled her hands down to rest on his legs. Leaning slightly forward, he kissed her quiet.

She didn't move away. On the contrary, Cali leaned into the kiss, running her hands up Tony's legs and locking them in the empty belt loops of his jeans. Anthony pulled back.

"I don't think you're too familiar, Miss Gibbs. Forward, maybe," he smiled, "but not familiar. Just between us, you may call me Tonio."

Cali smiled, "After a kiss like that, don't you think you ought to call me Cali?"

Tony smiled. The girl had a way.

From his vantage point in the squad car, Sheriff Jethro Gibbs had watched the interlude between Cali and Tony unfold. It was all he could do not to burst through the front door and strangle the young Mr. DiNozzo. However, he also knew you couldn't stop destiny.

Cali had been infatuated with Antonio DiNozzo, Jr. the first time she'd seen him in her father's jail. Cali had dropped by to bring her dad lunch. Tony was in the cell being lectured by the Sheriff. Cali had listened quietly, sneaking peaks at the handsome teenager. Tony was nineteen, almost twenty. Cali had just turned fourteen. Gibbs had let Tony out and he walked right past the girl, winking at her as he went. The girl was at her father's desk in five seconds flat wanting the total story on the young man.

Jethro had thought it a passing fancy but he should have known better. She would go to the basketball games because she knew Tony would be there to watch Tim McGee. When she heard he was leaving for the Army, Cali was almost inconsolable. That's when she found out Mr. DiNozzo wanted someone for the restaurant. When Gibbs found out she had a job, he was pleased with her initiative. When he found out where it was, he was secretly impressed with her determination. She had talked about the handsome young soldier for a month after he had come home between basic training and his deployment. Then Cali found out she loved the restaurant and the business and everything about it. Jethro couldn't deny that Cali had made the older DiNozzo's last few years a little bit fuller in the absence of his son. He realized just how much Cali had come to mean when Antonio, Sr. told him about the will and the restaurant. Gibbs had first told DiNozzo he didn't think it was right but knew he couldn't deprive his daughter of something she truly loved. That she might love the son as well wasn't something Gibbs was prepared for.

He didn't know why it surprised him. Cali wasn't much different than her mother. Angela had been the same way about Gibbs. She had been five years younger and had harassed Jethro the minute he went to work in her father's butcher shop. He thought her a cute kid and then a nice looking girl and suddenly, the love of his life. Yes, destiny was doomed, it seemed, to repeat itself.

Back in the restaurant, Tony had kissed Cali a second time. But she broke it off this time saying, "You know, sometimes my dad picks me up after closing. I better go."

DiNozzo nodded. The last thing he needed was Sheriff Leroy Jethro Gibbs to catch him kissing his only daughter. He wouldn't have to worry about ghosts. He'd be one himself.

She took his hand that he had cut with the glass and kissed the palm, "Good night, Tonio." And Cali ran for the door.


	7. Chapter 7

March 1946  
United States

Tony knocked on the door to the doctor's office. Much like the restaurant, Doctor Mallard's office was actually a room off of his residence. It had its own door instead of going through the house. Tony soon stood face to face with the older man.

"Anthony, my boy. Come in." and he stepped aside to let DiNozzo in.

Tony took a seat on the examining table as the doctor took the chair across. "What can I do for you?"

Tony stammered, "Well, sir, I, uh, cut my hand on some glass the other day in the restaurant. I thought maybe you should look at it. Can't be too careful."

Doctor Mallard, or "Ducky" as his really close friends called him, took Tony's hand in his and began to look it over. After a cursory review, he sat back down and gave his prognosis.

"I think your hand is just fine, Anthony. It appears the cuts weren't deep and it's healing nicely. I don't see any infection so just keep it clean and you should be fine."

Tony stood from the table, "Oh, okay, Doctor. Thank you. What do I owe you?" And he reached for his wallet.

"Is that the only reason you came, Anthony?"

DiNozzo hesitated but only briefly. He sat back down, this time taking the other chair across from the doctor, and asked, "What do you know about some World War I soldier who had problems adjusting to life stateside?"

Ducky smiled. Jethro had told him he had planted the seed in DiNozzo's head. Gibbs had told Doctor Mallard to go ahead and tell him everything; hold nothing back. When Ducky asked why Gibbs didn't do it himself, the Sheriff had responded, with a smile, "Because I don't remember everything and you do."

Doctor Mallard turned the sign to closed on his door and locked it. Looking back at Tony, he smiled. "Well, Lieutenant, I'll give you the answers you're looking for but I'll expect honesty from you in exchange. Fair enough?"

Tony should have said no and left right then but he knew he needed help. Something had happened last night. Working again in the restaurant had given him a sense of fulfillment that he hadn't known he was missing. Then, kissing Cali Gibbs had truly given him something to think about. For the first time, in nearly a year, Tony had gone to sleep on his own, not in a drunken stupor. And, for the first time in just as long, the ghosts had stayed away. He needed to know how to exorcise them for good. He suspected the Doctor and this former soldier had the answers. So, instead of saying no, he said yes and the doctor started the tale.

"I'm afraid, Tony, you already know the soldier. You just don't know you know him."

"Is that a riddle, Doctor?"

Ducky laughed, "Well, it wasn't meant to be but I guess it came out that way. Your World War I veteran is none other than Sheriff Leroy Jethro Gibbs."

Tony now understood one thing. The Sheriff had taken such an interest in him because he saw himself. That's how he had been able to make so many pointed comments to DiNozzo as if he had been reading Tony's mind.

"What happened?"

"Gunnery Sergeant Leroy Jethro Gibbs was a part of one of the first major Marine unit battles ever fought. It was the Battle of Belleau Wood in France. Almost ten thousand men were wounded with nearly two thousand killed. The battle lasted for nearly a month. Over and over different battalions of the 5th Marines division attacked the Germans. The tenacity of the enemy against the Americans was overwhelming. In one day of fighting, the Marines lost over a thousand men but they didn't give up. Finally, on June 26, 1918, the battle ended and the U.S. and the Marines held the ground."

Tony could imagine the fighting. In his time in France and Luxembourg, he had seen sieges go on and on. He had been involved in a similar battle that still troubled him.

"Jethro was part of a legendary group that was recognized not only by the French with their Croix de guerre medal of valor but he also received a Medal of Honor from the United States. Like you, Anthony, he's been decorated and rewarded for his valor."

"Did he tell anyone?"

"No, he didn't. He was, like you, reluctant to let anyone know of his success because of what it cost him personally."

Tony nodded, understanding completely, "It's hard, Doctor Mallard, to live, eat and drink with these men and then watch them die. You begin to wonder what makes you so special. Why aren't you the one that's dying?"

The hollow look in Tony's eyes reminded Ducky instantly of Jethro. He knew, now, why the Sheriff had wanted the tale told, no holds barred, to the younger man.

Tony finished, "So what happened?"

"Well, Jethro came back here. Again, much like you, he was on his own. His parents had died not too long before he entered the war. He was at loose ends, as it were. He tried his hand at several jobs before finally settling on one in Lyle Copeland's butcher shop."

Tony vaguely remembered the butcher, Mr. Copeland, as a big, barrel-chested man with huge arms. He was also quite soft-spoken which seemed such a contradiction. He knew that the Sheriff had spent time there most afternoons but not why.

"Things went well, at first, but Jethro had a hard time getting back into civilian life. Many nights he spent drinking with a group of roughnecks that were working in the neighboring town. He would leave the shop at 6pm, drink until 2 in the morning, be up at 6 from his military training and in the butcher shop by 8. Very hard on a man, regardless of how young or old you are."

Tony ducked his head. Except for the roughneck part, the drinking schedule sounded familiar.

"Did I mention," Ducky said, "That the butcher happened to have this beautiful red haired green eyed daughter that was completely infatuated with young Gunny Gibbs?"

Tony looked sharply at the doctor. "No, sir. You didn't."

"Well, Angela Copeland fell in love with Jethro Gibbs the minute he set foot in the butcher's shop. Jethro was twenty when he came back from Europe. Angela was fifteen. Needless to say, her father was none too happy."

Tony smiled again. He figured Gibbs would be the same if he knew Tony had kissed Cali.

Ducky watched Tony's face. "Something you want to say, Anthony?"

"Not right this minute, Doctor. I'd like to hear how this ends."

Ducky chuckled and continued, "Jethro kept up his drinking schedule for another six months. During this time, Angela would bring lunch for her dad and the new guy. She would drop by, on her way home from school, and suddenly decide her dad needed counter help. Well, Lyle had enough. He was smart enough to know his daughter wasn't going to change her mind so that left changing the habits of the young Mr. Gibbs."

Tony was on the edge of his seat as the doctor spun the tale, "Monday morning came and went and Jethro didn't show up for work. Tuesday morning came, and still no Jethro. Angela was inconsolable. Her father was mad at Gibbs for not being more responsible but mainly for making him deal with his distraught daughter. They found out later that Gibbs had spent the weekend, almost a year to the day that the Battle of Belleau Woods had ended, on a very big bender. No one knows for sure what transpired. Even Jethro himself doesn't remember. All he knows is that he served a month in jail doing hard labor. Because he had no money, he couldn't pay his fines to get out and he had no way to contact Mr. Copeland to let him know. Finally, a week after he was released, he showed back up at Lyle's."

"But certainly Mr. Copeland understood," Tony interjected.

"To a point. And he actually took Jethro back in as an employee. Angela, of course, was ecstatic. And everything was just fine until Jethro decided to go on another weekend binge."

Tony knew what that was like, too. "You promise yourself you won't do it. You won't drink this time. And then, something triggers the response. You hear something. You read something. You see someone who looks like someone you know and you spiral down." Tony hadn't realized he had said the words aloud until Ducky patted his arm.

"That's why he wanted you to hear everything, dear boy. He knew you could relate."

Tony smiled and Doctor Mallard continued, "When Jethro showed up two hours late on Monday, Mr. Copeland had had enough. He let Gibbs get his apron on and then he locked the front door of the shop. He tried to reason with the young Gunnery Sergeant, but Jethro being Jethro he didn't take kindly to Mr. Copeland's advice."

In his mind's eye, Tony could see the wily sheriff as a young man, quite full of himself and, as Tony would be, resentful of interference that he had not asked for.

"And?" Tony asked simply.

"Well, Mr. Copeland had been a bare knuckles fighter in his younger years. So he took Jethro out to the stock corral. Gibbs knew what was coming and he still didn't have sense enough to back down. Lyle let Jethro have the first punch. To his credit, he was able to bloody the big man's nose. After that, it was all Lyle Copeland. Leroy Jethro Gibbs took the beating of his life that day."

Tony didn't see the connection and said so, "How did that help?"

"Well, first of all, Jethro was so beat and bruised, he couldn't move for almost a week. But Lyle wouldn't let him off work. He put him in the storeroom in the back of the shop on a small cot. Gibbs worked his eight to ten hours a day and then went straight back to the cot. That way, Lyle could make sure of the whereabouts of the young man. Secondly, this allowed Jethro to dry out, privately. A man going through the DT's is not a pleasant sight; and going through it alone is almost impossible. Lyle was there to keep the infatuated Angela away and offer his help."

Tony could read between the lines on that comment, but he let it pass.

"Mrs. Copeland was none to happy with her husband's behavior. Angela wouldn't speak to her father and Mrs. Copeland had to listen to her daughter. Needless to say, Lyle spent many meals with the Gunny during that time. But that gave Jethro a chance to unburden himself, as well. After that week, Lyle and Jethro became very close. Anytime he had a major decision or a quandary in his life, Gibbs went to Mr. Copeland."

"I remember the patrol car being parked at the shop a lot of times. I guess that's why." DiNozzo replied.

"Well, that was one reason. The other reason was, of course, Angela. During those weeks of Gibbs' recuperation, she had to work the counter. All Jethro could really do was butcher meat and move things around. He once said that the view of Angela at the counter, her pony tail bobbing as she moved from customer to customer, that was the first thing that attracted him to her. He was at the shop all those afternoons, Anthony, because Angela worked the meat counter right up until the day she died."

"How did she die, sir?"

Ducky lowered his voice, "In a car accident. She was crossing the street and a man who had been drinking too much, hit her. Killed her instantly. Cali was twelve."

Tony nodded. Yet another reason Gibbs wouldn't want Tony around his family in his present state.

"One more thing, Doctor?" Ducky nodded as Tony asked, "How do you know so much about it?"

Doctor Mallard laughed, "Well, someone had to help treat the Gunnery Sergeant and make sure he lived. Lyle Copeland didn't want to fight that battle of having been the one to kill the boy his daughter was going to marry."

Tony smiled, while quietly processing everything the doctor had told him. He looked up to see Ducky watching him closely, too closely.

"Has this been helpful, Anthony?"

Tony stood, not quite knowing how to reply. "I had hoped the Sheriff wasn't going to have to use physical force with me."

Ducky smiled, "I don't think that's what he has in mind, Lieutenant. But, he does understand you better than you realize."

Tony nodded and headed for the door, the doctor behind. As he reached to unlock it, Ducky added a few more words, "Next time, Anthony. Squeeze something that won't break. Will you?"

Tony looked guiltily at the doctor but nodded. He thanked him again and DiNozzo left the doctor's office.

For the next several hours he wandered the streets of the small town. He wound up at Palmer's. He went in long enough to settle his bill from the other night and purchase a bottle to replace the one he had emptied at the apartment. Once he made the block nearing home, he took the back way so he wouldn't have to pass the restaurant's front. He slipped up the stairway and into the apartment.

Tony set the bottle of whiskey on the counter but pushed it aside. He reheated the soup Tim had brought and finished off most of it. His mind and body ached. His hands shook. He knew a drink would calm him but he was determined to do this by himself. He was Anthony DiNozzo. He didn't need anyone's help. He could do this alone.

It was still early, but Tony turned in for the night.


	8. Chapter 8

September 1944  
Luxembourg

Tony was at Ziva's. It was where he spent his free time these days. When he wasn't on patrol, he rushed to her farm house. There, he would help her do the laundry or he would cook for her while she finished up. Trent and Tim had tried to talk to him about the relationship, but he wouldn't listen. Tony had fallen head over heels in love with the young woman and couldn't help it.

"That smells lovely." Ziva said, entering the small kitchen.

Tony smiled at her voice and turned as she entered. She came to him and hugged him, taking a taste from the spoon he held to her lips. "Just like momma used to make," Tony answered, mugging his English with an Italian accent.

Ziva laughed and kissed him on the cheek. She tried to turn but he wouldn't release her, pulling her back for something much more intimate and intense. Ziva responded instantly. After a few more minutes, she finally broke the embrace.

"Tony, I can't let you do this," she turned from him and began setting the small table. "I can't promise you a future. I don't know where I'm going to be. I don't know where you're going to be."

Tony took the small pan from the stove and put it in the middle of the table as he said, "I didn't ask for a life long commitment, Ziva. As much as I would like to have it, I understand completely. I just want us to be happy while we can."

"I'm not sure that would ever be enough, Anthony, for either of us."

Tony understood what she said but he didn't like it. They ate in silence until Tony remembered the token he had for her. He pulled out the small square package wrapped in butcher paper and slid it across to her.

"What's this?" She quirked an eyebrow.

"Something," Tony smiled and began clearing the table. Ziva picked up the package. It was light and square. She untied the string and the yellow, silk scarf fell onto the table.

"Anthony, it's beautiful," Ziva gasped, "But surely you didn't buy it for me."

Tony saw the admiration in her face. He told her the truth, "I bought it, originally, for Tim's little sister. He buys tons of stuff for his girlfriend but he kind of forgets about Sarah. When I was rearranging some things yesterday, I came across it. And, I knew it was meant for you. The yellow of the scarf against your hair came to mind." He shrugged as he finished.

Ziva pulled the scarf up and tied it around her hair, fulfilling Tony's mental image. She rounded the table and kissed him again. "Thank you, Anthony. It's the most beautiful thing I've seen in a long time. I will cherish it and the memory of the man who gave it to me."

Tony kissed her again and they continued to clean up from their meal. They finally settled on the floor in front of the fire where they talked long into the night about different things: their families, their friends, and their childhood. They may have been raised a continent apart, in totally different religious backgrounds, yet they shared similar hopes and dreams for their lives.

Ziva was laughing at a story Tony was telling about Tim when, suddenly, Tony placed his hand across her mouth. Putting a finger in front of his lips to shush her, he crawled over to the closest window to peak out.

In the distance he could make out a two man patrol. And, suddenly, he heard the unmistakable guttural sounds of German. Tony had to think quickly. Making eye contact with Ziva, he motioned for her to lie down and be quiet. She nodded her understanding but continued to watch. Tony undressed to his skivvies and then grabbed a quilt from the nearby rack. As the voices got closer, Tony pulled his weapon and went out on the front porch.

In Italian, Tony asked, "Who's there?"

The two German infantry men came closer to the light from the porch. In German-laced Italian, one of the men responded, "We're from the Fifteenth Army. I'm August. This is Franz."

Tony nodded his acknowledgment, "What are you looking for?"

"Food. Army rations get old after awhile," August replied.

"There are some things in the barn. You can go there," And Tony pointed the direction.

Franz rattled a question to August that he translated, "My friend wants to know what you have in there?"

Tony looked over his shoulder and smiled, "The other thing you were looking for, a woman."

The man who understood Italian translated and both Germans shared a laugh. "Is she good?"

Tony shrugged, "I've had better but she'll do."

Again, August quickly translated for Franz and they all laughed again. Franz nodded and headed toward the barn. August replied, "Well, clean up good, if you know what I mean." And laughed at his own bawdy joke. He nodded and went to follow his patrol partner.

Tony watched them a little while longer and then backed into the farm house. He quickly doused the light and joined Ziva back by the fire.

"So that's why you had me put some things in the barn," She replied as he sat down.

He smiled, "Just being prepared."

"And, unless I misunderstood the translation, did you imply to them I was a prostitute?" Ziva's tone was accusing.

"Yeah, but, if it's any consolation, I also implied you weren't a very good one."

She punched him playfully. "It seems you have, once again, rescued me. You must stop this, Anthony. I'm running out of rewards."

"I can think of one." And he opened the blanket to her.

Ziva hesitated only briefly and joined the American G.I. They spent the rest of the night, together, under the blanket by the fire.


	9. Chapter 9

March 1946  
United States

Tony bolted upright from the bed. The sheets were wet and tangled from where he had sweated. His clothes were wringing wet with sweat as well. His stomach churned and he had chills. Tony was also shaking uncontrollably.

He looked at his watch. Almost 10:00pm, he thought, Cali might still be downstairs. He had no choice. He half walked – half crawled down the stairs to the restaurant. He got to the kitchen before the nausea made him double over. He heard the door open and looked up into Cali's worried face.

"Tonio?" She started to kneel but he put up a hand to ward her off.

"Cali," he croaked, "Is your dad here?"

She nodded, "He's outside right now."

"Hurry and get him, please? I need…help."

Cali didn't have to be told twice. She flew out of the kitchen and nearly ripped the front door off the hinges. Jethro saw her panicked actions and was out of the car and at the door instantly.

"What's wrong?" His voice held concern.

Cali could only point toward the kitchen. Jethro looked past her to where she had indicated. "Stay here."

As he cautiously walked to the back, he freed his weapon for easy access. A quick glance inside, however, and he saw Tony, huddled against the kitchen wall, his legs pulled tightly to his chest, head resting on his knees, shaking uncontrollably.

Gibbs turned around only to run into Cali who had followed him. "Cali, take the patrol car and go home." He reached in his pocket and handed her the keys.

"But, papa?' she questioned, fear and concern in her voice.

"It's okay," he reassured her, "I'll take care of Tony."

"But," Cali continued to argue.

His voice firm, Jethro said, "Cali, Tonio wouldn't want you to see him like this. Understand?"

She looked again, past her father, at Tony who was still huddled against the wall. Her heart broke and tears filled her eyes. Looking back to her father, she nodded and took the car keys. Cali wanted to help but she knew her dad would make everything better. She turned off the lights in the front of the restaurant and locked the door on her way out.

Gibbs grabbed one of the clean tablecloths from a nearby stack. As he knelt down, he wrapped it around the younger man's shoulders. Tony finally made eye contact.

"I'm…I'm sorry," he stuttered.

"You've been drinking a lot longer than I figured for it to be this bad."

Tony only nodded, the shaking making it hard for him to talk.

"Let's head back upstairs," Jethro reached out to help Tony up but Tony shook his head.

"I…I don't think I can."

"Okay, we'll just sit here until you're ready. I've got as long as you need, understand?" Gibbs tone was comforting not condescending and it cut straight through Tony's muddled mind and broken heart.

In a voice barely above a whisper, Tony said, "She was a woman I was involved with."

Gibbs understood his statement but needed Tony to tell him everything, "Who, Tony?"

"Ziva. The name you asked me about in jail the other day. She was a woman I was with in Europe."

"What about her?"

"She was beautiful and kind and friendly. She was Jewish but I didn't care." He paused as the words came rushing out. He looked directly into Gibbs face as he finished, "And I loved her."

Jethro only nodded his understanding as Tony rushed through the story of their meeting and involvement.

"I'm guessing it didn't end well?" Gibbs prompted.

Tony only shook his head.

"Tell me about the last time you saw her." Gibbs prodded again.

"I'll tell you about the next to the last time I saw her." Tony said.

Gibbs turned and propped himself up against the wall next to Tony and listened as the young soldier unburdened his heart.


	10. Chapter 10

October 1944  
Luxembourg

Tony ran all the way to Ziva's farmhouse. He didn't knock. He just threw open the door and yelled, "Ziva!"

She came instantly, "Tony, what's wrong?" His tone alerting her.

"We're moving out."

She smiled ruefully, "I know, Tony. I've been watching the camp make preparations all day."

"Well, you can't stay here."

"And just what am I going to do, Anthony?" She came closer and took his hand in hers.

He watched the movement, so elegant and graceful, even in something so simple. He squeezed and pulled her hand to his lips. "You can come with me."

Ziva laughed, "And just how am I going to accomplish that, Lieutenant DiNozzo? Are you going to put me in your back pack? Or better yet, roll me up and stuff me in your duffle bag?"

Tony knew she was right but he persisted, "You could follow behind."

Shaking her head she responded, "I think camp followers went away sometime after your American Civil War."

He dropped her hand and turned his back. Disgusted and frustrated, his tone of voice was sharp, "Well, you can't stay here, Ziva. You just can't."

Ziva walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. Laying her head on his back, she said, "I am a survivor, Anthony. I have survived for the last five years on my own, using the brain the Lord above blessed me with. I will continue to survive."

He turned into the embrace, wrapping his arms around her. "I'll come back for you?" He'd meant it as a statement but it ended a question.

She closed her eyes, wanting so desperately for this to be a dream and they could awaken and the world would be normal. "We both know that's probably not realistic. I will make you the same promise I made Michael. I will wait for you in France."

Tony shook his head, "I can't do that. I would never be able to stand it if he showed up for you as well as me. But, mark my words, Ziva, I will find you. Wherever you are, wherever you go, I will find you. And then, if you want, I'll take you to Paris to meet your precious Michael."

And in that moment, Ziva knew he would find her. "Very well, Tony. You leave me with the hope that I will see you again, soon. That in itself is enough. If one has hope, then one can live through anything."

She kissed him. Tony continued to hold her but Ziva spoke into his chest. "Go, Anthony, now. Don't get into trouble because of me."

He loosened his hug but still wouldn't let go of her hands, "Please, Anthony, go. And be safe. You must come back to me as you've promised."

Tony kissed her again and left. Ziva followed him out, her hair tied in the yellow scarf, waving to him as he went.


	11. Chapter 11

March 1946  
United States

They were still sitting on the kitchen floor of DiNozzo's Restaurant. Jethro had listened intently to Tony's story, noticing that the tremors had finally subsided.

"You think you could get back to your apartment now?"

Tony nodded. The Sheriff helped Tony stand. He swayed slightly but didn't fall with the strong arm that steadied him. Together, they made their way back upstairs. Jethro helped Tony to one of the dining room chairs while he went to get a bed ready.

Glancing into Tony's room, he could see the sweat stains that covered the linens and he knew they would need to be changed. He opened the door to DiNozzo's parents' room and pulled down the sheets from the bed. He then came back to Tony and headed him that direction.

Tony stopped short, "I can't go in there."

"Yes, you can, Anthony. We'll deal with all the ghosts tonight." Gibbs paused at the look of fear in the younger man's eyes, "Together. We'll do it together."

Tony nodded and let Gibbs lead him to the bed. DiNozzo hadn't ever been deeply religious. He had attended church because his mother made him. Since before he left for the Army and while in Europe he hadn't darkened the door of a confessional, although he probably should have. However, Tony couldn't stop before he crossed himself upon entering the room. Gibbs caught his embarrassed look but ignored it as he situated the soldier. Taking the other pillows, Jethro propped himself against the foot of the bed, getting comfortable for the rest of the night ahead. He knew this was going to get much worse before it got better.

"What happened next, Tony? Where were you sent?"

Tony's face became unreadable as he recited their movements, "We were part of an initial movement in an operation designated 'Unicorn'. We took a place called Le Stromberg Hill against heavy opposition in early November. We had to face a ton of counterattacks. From there we moved to the Hurtgen Forest and entered the Battle of the Bulge in late December."

Tony made eye contact with Gibbs, "I suppose this fight for me was your Battle of Belleau Woods, Jethro."

Gibbs was pleased that the young man had finally started calling him by his first name. "Rough then, huh?"

"Yes, sir. I think I heard somewhere there were over 89,000 killed, injured, captured or missing during that siege. All I know is that my commanding officer, Captain Carson was killed and that's where McGee nearly got his butt shot off." A ghost of a smile came to Tony's face as he said, "There was no way I was going to let anything happen to Tim. Mrs. Hanna McGee and her husband, Padraig," Tony pronounced it with the Irish, "scared me a hell of a lot more than the Germans."

"What happened?"

"It was bloody, sir. Men dropped all around you. I was fighting next to Captain Carson when he got killed." Tony looked forlorn, "We got our promotions at the same time."

Gibbs nodded as Tony continued, "When he went down, I was the closest officer so I just took charge. Started telling men where to go, what to do. Guess I did alright. I got everyone else out and didn't loose anybody."

This was the DiNozzo that Gibbs had been hunting for. Even all those years, as a teenager, he knew Tony had leadership ability. It just had to be channeled. War was never a good thing and it made some kids grow up too fast. But, in some instances, it made boys become the men they were meant to be.

"My Regimental commander, Major Fornell, heard what I did. How I took charge. He brevetted me to Captain so our division would have a leader. Said he couldn't have a 2nd lieuy leading the group."

"Is that when you got your Silver Star?" Gibbs quizzed.

DiNozzo ducked his head but answered, "I wouldn't leave Captain Carson's body there. I just couldn't. Plus Timothy was pinned down. My other good friend, Sergeant Kort gave me cover fire and I was able to get McGee and a couple more guys from another unit out. That's how I got it."

Tony's body had continued to rebel against itself. He alternated between fever and chills. He would still occasionally suffer the tremors associated with withdrawal. His stomach still ached and Gibbs knew Tony fought against retching several times. But by keeping him talking, Gibbs was able to keep Tony's mind off the physical discomforts and focused on the mental housecleaning that still needed to be done.

"How long did that phase of fighting last?" he kept Tony engaged.

"We fought there until January. When word came down that we would be moving back to Belgium and the Netherlands for rehab, I convinced Major Fornell to let me have a three day pass."

"For Ziva?" Gibbs said knowingly.

"I made a promise, Jethro. I don't break my promises."

That was a statement the young Mr. DiNozzo was going to regret.

"Anyway, he allowed me to go but told me if I wasn't back in three days not to bother coming back. He'd have the MP's on me." Gibbs liked this Fornell guy, a man after his own heart.

"When I got there, Ziva's farm was completely destroyed. It was just a burned out shell. There was no one around to talk to so I had no choice. I went back to my unit and on to Belgium."

"Gotta say, DiNozzo, you saw more of Europe than I did on my tour."

"That's not necessarily a good thing, sir." Gibbs nodded and then encouraged Tony to continue. "We moved out again, about this time, a year ago. We were headed toward the Rhine. We took several more cities and established a defensive position on the West bank of the river. We crossed the Leine, attacking to the east, and pushed over the Harz Mountain region and then we took the city of Barby, near the Elbe, by April."

Again, Jethro shook his head. The terrain Tony's group had covered was mind boggling. And he was certain there were a number of encounters with enemy forces all along the way. That the man was here to talk about it at all was a miracle within itself.

Tony face had begun to show some emotion as he talked of his unit's campaigns. But, suddenly, Jethro sensed a change. He knew that these next few minutes were most likely Anthony's hardest.

"We, uh," DiNozzo cleared his throat, trying to detach himself from the emotion he knew was about to come, "we encountered our first Nazi concentration camp just a few days later." Gibbs leaned forward, inching his way closer to the head of the bed. Tony's voice had dropped to almost imperceptible. "It was, we later learned, a satellite camp from Buchenwald."

"So the stories were true. There were forced labor camps."

"This was no forced labor camp," Tony's voice took a hard edge; "This was a death camp, pure and simple. Officially, it wasn't an extermination camp like Auschwitz but it accounted for its fair share of carnage."

Tony grew restless as he continued talking about the camp, "You can't imagine what we saw. In your worst nightmares, you couldn't account for this. The smell was horrific. Kort told Tim and me about a trip he'd taken to the slaughterhouse in Chicago. He said this was a hundred times worse."

Gibbs shuttered. Having worked in the butcher shop all those years he easily got an idea of the smell. That it was the result of human decay was incomprehensible.

"The camp had rows and rows of barbed wire that would have cut anyone to shreds trying to get out. The men that came to meet us looked like walking skeletons, the skin hung so loose. We found out later that most of the deaths were from starvation. Malnourished and suffering from disease, many were literally 'worked to death'. It was either that or be executed."

Again, Jethro was struck by the suffering this young man had already seen in his life. He thought about stopping Tony but he could tell that once he had started, he wouldn't stop until he finished the tale.

Anthony's voice was now monotone as he continued, "Major Fornell was so appalled by the conditions that he marched the local mayor and some of the town's people out to the camp. He made them bring their own water and food to feed the survivors."

Again, Gibbs smiled, liking the way of the gruff Major.

"We found out that there were satellite camps all around the area that had to be checked. Many of the men couldn't handle it." Tony pierced Gibbs with a clear, direct stare as he said, "I volunteered for it."

Gibbs only nodded, allowing Tony to continue. "I found out that Buchenwald had one of the few women's barracks. The numbers held there was somewhere between 500 and 1,000. Most arrived between 1944 and 1945; most were Jewish, and there was only one barrack set aside for them. When the SS knew we were coming, they tried to evacuate as many as they could but so many were sick or dying, it wasn't worth it to the Germans. They executed them instead." Jethro closed his eyes because he knew what was coming next. Tony's simple statement confirmed it.

"I promised I would find her."

Gibbs looked into the troubled, tearful eyes of Anthony DiNozzo. "They shaved her head. I was told that they did it to all the prisoners to cut down the problem with lice. It didn't matter. She was still as beautiful. She was thinner but it was still her. I found out that a patrol had come upon her house. They told her they were moving her for safety reasons and that she could take some of her personal belongings. But it was a ruse. They forced marched her and about twenty-five others to Buchenwald. Separated the women from the men and put them to work. She got sick from the conditions and she couldn't make the evacuation march." He never broke his gaze with Gibbs as he said, "I was less than a week away and I couldn't get to her. I couldn't save her."

"And you're sure it was her, Anthony?" Jethro asked quietly.

"Her Star of David that they made her sew on her uniform? It was cut from the scarf I gave her. It was, without doubt, Ziva."

The tears flowed freely now as Tony continued, "That was it. I did go AWOL this time. I started walking and found a town that had a bar and didn't stop drinking until I passed out. That's where Trent Kort and Tim, along with two MP's, found me. When I sobered up enough to face Major Fornell, he read me the riot act. He refused to have me court martialed because the whole thing had taken its toll on all the troops, not just me. However, he couldn't let my insubordination pass. He busted me back to 1st lieutenant and that's why I only have one silver bar on my uniform instead of two." Tony paused and then continued, "At that point, I didn't care. When I wasn't on duty, I was drunk. Kort and McGee kept me from leaving when I wasn't supposed to and kept me on time for where I needed to be. For almost a year, I haven't gone a day when I didn't down at least one bottle of something: whiskey, bourbon, scotch. It didn't matter."

Tony expected Gibbs to be disappointed at his actions. Instead, he saw the look that Tony had hoped to see from his own father, one of acceptance and understanding. "God, I hate to admit this. But, you were right, you know. There was no answer in the bottom of those liquor bottles. And drinking alone did make the ghosts come faster. But, the one thing it did do? It kept me from dealing with my reality."

"And what reality was that, Tony?"

"That I couldn't save them. I couldn't save any of them. I couldn't save Carson or the other men I served with. I couldn't save Ziva. Hell, I couldn't even be here to save my own father."

Tony's body, mind and soul were totally broken. He collapsed into tears against the older man's shoulder. Jethro held him, not unlike Lyle Copeland had done for him over twenty-five years ago. Gibbs hadn't had to resort to a physical beating like Lyle but Tony had suffered none the less. He finally got Tony to lie back against the pillows and, within minutes, he was sound asleep.

Jethro left the bedroom, pulling the door to as he exited. He, too, was physically and emotionally drained. He put on a pot of coffee and looked at his watch. They had been up for over seven hours but he knew it was worth it.

He poured a cup of the steaming dark liquid and walked to the dining room table. He took the chair he had pulled out earlier for Tony. After a few sips, he put the cup aside and laid his head on his crossed arms. Gibbs was sound asleep.


	12. Chapter 12

March 1946  
United States

Gibbs jumped at the knock on the door. He had only put his head down for a few minutes but he had been asleep for almost two hours. He knew before he opened the door to the apartment who would be standing there.

Cali looked as tired as Gibbs felt. He knew the girl had probably spent a restless night worried about the young soldier. He also knew she had sense enough to do exactly what her father told her and not come back and get in the way.

"Is he okay?" She asked, coming into the room and closing the door.

Gibbs smiled and shook his head, "He's better than he was when you saw him last night."

"Can I talk to him?"

"No, sweet girl, you can't. He's sound asleep."

"Can I at least look in on him?"

Jethro rolled his eyes – young love! "Yes, you can look in on him but don't bother him."

Jethro pointed toward the semi closed door. Cali walked over and quietly peeked in. Satisfied that he was better, she pulled the door back to and turned and ran to her father. She threw her arms around his neck and cried into his shoulder, "I knew you'd take care of him, papa. Thank you."

All Jethro could think of was poor Lyle Copeland. If this was what he went through with Angela, where he was concerned, it was a wonder the man hadn't killed him. He hugged Cali back and then pulled her away.

"I do need you to do something for me."

"Anything."

"Go find Tim McGee and ask him to come over here. I've got to get some rest and I don't want Tony left alone."

"But I could stay," Cali volunteered.

"You have a restaurant to run. Besides, there are few things I need to talk to Tim about." He could see she wanted to debate the issue but he gave her what she called 'the look' and Cali quickly agreed. She kissed her dad on the cheek and with one last look towards Tony's closed door, she left the apartment.

Jethro warmed up his cold coffee from the pot he made earlier and waited for the next knock to come. It took only about thirty minutes.

Gibbs knew that Tim had seen everything that Tony had but he seemed more well adjusted than the older DiNozzo. Tim had always been a level-headed, affectionate young man. His parents had supported him and he'd had good self-esteem growing up. It was amazing how the differences in upbringing had manifested themselves.

"Is he okay?" The concern in Tim's voice was evident as he took a chair at the table.

"He will be," was Gibbs reply. "He's still got a long way to go to being his old irascible self, though."

Tim nodded. "I knew he was bad, Sheriff Gibbs. I just didn't realize how bad."

"Yeah, he kept it hidden pretty well but, I think, his dad's death hit him harder than he realized it would. That added to all the other emotions he was keeping bottled up, well, they had to boil over sometime."

Tim nodded as Gibbs continued, "I have a couple of things still bothering me and I thought you might help."

"Yes, sir?"

"Tony didn't have any serious girlfriends before he left did he?"

"No, sir. Most of the girls wouldn't date him because he was Italian. And those that would, their parents wouldn't allow it."

"Ziva was his first serious entanglement."

Tim smiled, "Yes, sir, but, it was the real thing."

"What do you mean?"

"She felt about Tony like he did about her. You could tell it any time they were together. Another place, another time, it would have been Tony and Ziva, together forever."

Jethro nodded. He had hoped Tony's devotion had not been misplaced. He was glad to hear it wasn't.

"Look, Tim, I'm exhausted. He's probably going to sleep for another few hours and I could use some sack time myself. Can you stay with him? I don't want him to wake up and be alone."

"Sure, Sheriff Gibbs. Whatever you need. Whatever he needs. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him. I owe Anthony my life."

Jethro stood and patted Tim on the shoulder, "I'll be back after one and I'll take him to eat. Until then, keep him here in the apartment if you can. There's still a few more things he and I need to finish."

Tim nodded and watched the older man leave. He pulled the deck of cards from his pocket and Tim played solitaire while he waited for his friend to wake up.

* * *

It was almost noon when Tony ventured out of the bedroom. He opened the door, expecting to see the Sheriff. He was surprised to be greeted by his friend.

Tim looked up expecting to see the serious, quiet Tony that came home on the train. The man standing in the doorway looked like the Antonio that had left for the war, full of mischief and good times. Tony watched the expressions play out on McGee's face before speaking, "Is it good or bad?"

"It's good. Very good." Tim answered and he stood and hugged his friend.

They both laughed and sat back down at the table.

"I was that bad, huh?" Tony asked.

"Yeah. Unfortunately, I didn't realize just how bad. Thank goodness for Sheriff Gibbs."

Tony ducked his head and answered, "Yeah. So, how much did he tell you?"

Tim knew Tony valued his privacy. "He only said you had a rough night but that you were on the right track. That's all."

Tony silently thanked the Sheriff for his discretion and then turned back to his friend, "Thank you. I know you and Kort covered my ass a ton of times. A lot of it came back last night when I was talking to Gibbs. I'm sorry I put you through it."

"It's okay, Tony. You saved my life. I can forgive you almost anything because of that."

He laughed. "By the way, where is Gibbs?"

"He went home to catch a few winks but he said he'd be back for lunch. Wanted you to stick around here until then."

"No problem. I feel like I reek so a bath sounds good. I'm okay, if you need to leave." Tony pointedly looked downstairs toward the restaurant.

Tim smiled, "Okay, but I need to ask you something first."

"Shoot!"

"I asked Abby to marry me."

"And?" Tony replied.

"She said yes."

Tony stood, slapping Tim on the back, "Timothy, congratulations! When's the big day?"

Tim swallowed, standing, he answered, "A week from Saturday. All our family is here so there's no need to wait, really."

"That's great. So what do you want to ask me?"

"Will you be my best man?"

Tony was awed, "I'm honored, man. Of course! And you'll have the reception in the restaurant. I'll close it up and I'll cook everything!"

"No, Tony, you don't have to…"

"I want to, Tim. Please? I still remember a thing or two. It'll be my gift to you and your beautiful bride!"

"Okay, yes."

"Great!" Tony caught a whiff of himself, "Wow! Need that bath now, Tim. Go ahead and let yourself out. We'll talk later."

They shook hands and Tony headed for the bathroom as Tim left, smiling. This was the Anthony DiNozzo they all knew and loved.


	13. Chapter 13

March 1946  
United States

Tony had the table set and the kitchen smelling pretty good when Gibbs returned. He didn't bother to knock. He just let himself in. Tony turned at the sound of the door and motioned the older man in.

"Have a seat, Sheriff. Lunch will be ready shortly."

"Smells good, DiNozzo, but you didn't have to."

Tony put the last plate on the table and sat down as Gibbs joined him, "Yes, sir. I did. I need to do this and a ton more."

Jethro filled his plate as did Tony. He was happy to see the boy dig into a plate of food. He suspected it had been some time since he had eaten because it tasted good rather than to keep from throwing up the alcohol.

"So," Tony said between bites, "You have something else we need to discuss?"

Gibbs swallowed and then wiped his mouth before saying, "Yeah. Just a couple of things."

Tony had a feeling, from the look on the older man's face, he might not like what was about to transpire. But, after everything he'd been through in the last 24 hours, Tony figured he could handle it.

"You told me last night you keep your promises."

"I didn't agree on much with my father but that's one thing he drilled into me. He always made sure that if I promised it, I delivered. Regardless of the situations. Now, I stand by that, right or wrong."

"Then make me a promise, DiNozzo?"

"Do I get to hear it first?"

"You and me, we can't stop with one drink. For us, it has to be all or nothing at all. So promise me, that as long as you live, you'll never take another drink of alcohol."

"You have my word, sir."

Gibbs nodded, satisfied.

"Now, what else do we need to talk about?"

Tony had a mouth full of water when Gibbs replied, "My daughter."

He spit it out quickly, choking as he did so.

"Uh, yes sir?"

"I guess I just need to tell you straight out, Tony. She's loved you since she was fourteen years old."

Tony shook his head, "I just don't remember…"

"Do you remember the skinny little freckle-faced girl with long pony tails that used to hang around the jail?"

Anthony thought back to his youth and the times spent in a cell with the Sheriff lecturing him. In his mind's eye, he saw a young girl peeking at him from around a corner. Jethro knew instantly when the light dawned.

"You always winked at her, Tony. Pulled her pony tails when you left. Cali says you even used to talk to her in McGee's store."

"My god. That was Cali?"

"Yes, that was Cali."

He had always thought she was a cute kid. He liked to tug on her pony tails because of the faces she would make. But, he remembered, he always winked at her when he saw her. It was something he had really only done with the little red head. Tony looked at the Sheriff. "I think you should know, the other night, when she worked late. I was the one that worked with her, not Abby." Tony swallowed the lump in his throat, knowing the next words he said might very well be his last. "I…uh…I kissed your daughter, sir. And not just a peck on the cheek, I'm afraid."

"I know. I saw you."

"And you didn't…I mean, you still…I'm really confused, sir."

"For pete's sake, Tony, I think you can call me Jethro. And I have my own reasons for doing what I did."

"Can I hear them, please?"

"You're going to have to make a decision as to what Cali Gibbs means to you. Mr. Copeland whipped me into shape, literally, before he let Angela anywhere around me. I had to, at the very least, do the same for my daughter."

Tony nodded. She had loved him all this time and he didn't know it. Was he that blind and stupid?

"If I wanted to start something serious with your daughter, would you let me?"

"Thank you for asking. And, yes, I would. Because I would never hear the end of it if I didn't."

Tony smiled as Gibbs continued, "There's one more thing," he paused.

"Yes?"

"Your feelings for Ziva."

Tony sat there. He could understand the father wanting to make sure the daughter didn't have to compete with a ghost. But, Tony suspected, this was the last of the healing that Gibbs thought he needed.

"She is, was, and always will be, my first true love, Jethro. I won't change that." Gibbs nodded as the soldier went on, "But, I will always deal with the guilt of being that close and not being able to get to her."

"Tony, I don't think that's what Ziva would want. You gave her hope. She'd already told you that was a powerful weapon in the face of what she would confront. What's the last living image you have of her?"

"Standing outside the farm house, her hair tied with the yellow scarf I gave her. She was waving good bye."

"Then, cling to that image, Anthony. I think that's the one she would want you to remember. The way you liked her best, smiling and hopeful, wearing something she cherished. Stay focused on that and it'll be a whole lot easier for you to keep the promise you've made me."

Tony was thoughtful. Hesitantly, he began, "I'm going to make a mess of this but I…"

Gibbs looked closely at Tony. He could see him struggling to put words together and he knew that whatever was coming next was extremely serious for the soldier.

"I was rude to you, the day I got here. You tried to, even then, be a shoulder for me to lean on and I rejected it. You called me 'son'."

"I remember."

"I'm sorry for the tone of those words. And, I know, unfortunately, my own father would have never been able to do for me what you did last night."

"It's alright, Tony. A man that I came to think of as a father did the same for me."

"Thank you, sir."

"Anytime, son."


	14. Chapter 14

March 1946  
United States

After Gibbs left, Tony spent the next several hours cleaning up the small apartment that was now his home. All the while, images of Cali Gibbs flashed through his mind. Once Gibbs had cued him in on what to look for, he had seen her everywhere. It seemed, every time he'd been locked up, she had been hovering around the corner. He remembered her at Tim's basketball games and in the hardware store. All the time, Tony had figured she was set on the clean cut, good looking McGee, not him. He'd had to admit that, if Callie might like him, it would be a good reason to try and sober up. That thought, and his curiosity, had driven him to seek out the doctor. As he worked, Tony would stop and glance downstairs ever so often, but he knew he couldn't get in the girls' ways if the restaurant was busy. He paced for another hour before looking at his watch - 7:30pm. He'd lasted as long as he could.

He entered the back of the restaurant, through the kitchen, stopping long enough to congratulate Abby. She bubbled enthusiasm as they talked a few more minutes. Tim McGee was a lucky man.

"Is it busy up front?" he asked her.

"No, it's been pretty quiet tonight. Usually is on Wednesday's though." She smiled at Tony. "Go on. She's looking for you, too."

He smiled and winked and made his way through the door that separated the kitchen from the dining room. He took a seat on the serving counter.

Cali turned when he walked in. The restaurant was completely empty and she had already started the clean up for the night. She walked over to Tony, standing between his legs where he sat on the counter.

"Mr. DiNozzo?" she smiled.

"Miss Gibbs. Why don't you lock up early tonight?"

"I don't know. I'd have to talk to the owner about that."

"I don't think he'll mind. Besides, I need to talk to you."

"About what?"

"Guess you know Abby's getting married a week from Saturday?" He asked, holding her hand in his.

"I did. I'm the maid of honor." She replied saucily.

"Well, I'm the best man. And the reception is going to be here in the restaurant."

Cali was surprised, "Abby didn't tell me that."

"That's because Abby doesn't know. I offered it to Tim earlier today as a wedding present."

"That's wonderful."

"Yeah, well, I'm going to need some help getting everything ready. Can I count on you?"

"You're going to cook?"

Tony shook his head, "Why is everyone so surprised that I can cook? I grew up practically tied to that stove."

"Just tell me what time and what you need. I'll be here." Cali answered, squeezing his hand.

"And one more thing," he turned toward the kitchen. "Abby! Come here, would ya?"

Abby came through the door, wiping her hands on a towel.

"Yes, Mr. DiNozzo?"

"Would you please call me Tony?" She nodded in response as he continued, "Don't suppose you'd like the week off before the wedding would you?"

Abby's face lit up, "I would love it. But who's going to help Cali?"

Before he could answer, Cali supplied, "I think Tonio knows his way around."

"Yes, then, absolutely. Thank you!" And she came forward and hugged Cali and Tony. As she returned to the kitchen, Cali told her to go ahead and start cleaning up for the night. She then turned back to Tony.

"Anything else?"

He leaned forward. Cali leaned in towards him. But, instead of a kiss, he pulled her close and whispered, "I always loved to tug your pony tails."

When she jerked back, the first things she noticed were the twinkle in his eye and the sly smile, so like the younger man she had been infatuated with all those years before. Tony slid down off the counter and pulled her into an embrace, followed by a kiss.

* * *

The next week and a half were a blur. The first morning after he had made his deal with Abby, Tony showed up in the restaurant at 9 to make sure he truly did remember what he was doing. By the end of the day, it was as if the almost five years away from the restaurant had never happened.

Then, it was just Cali and Tony for the week leading up to the wedding. He was always in the kitchen by the time she let herself in every morning. They got into a quick routine and things, for the most part, ran smoothly. He left the business decisions to her, admiring her expertise. She let him run the kitchen, discovering that he was as good a cook or better than either Abby or Antonio, Senior, and much more efficient.

During one lunch rush, it did get a little heated between the two. They argued in between her trips into the kitchen and it ended with Tony muttering under his breath, in Italian, as she left, that she was as stubborn as any Army mule he'd ever encountered. She came back in a few minutes later with a mischievous grin.

"You do know I understand Italian, don't you?"

He wheeled around quickly. "No."

"I don't speak it, but I worked with your father and Abby long enough that I have a pretty good grasp on the language."

"So you know…" Tony trailed off.

"Yes. I know exactly what you said." Tony was immediately contrite. She walked up close enough to him so that she could poke him in the stomach, "Don't say it again."

"Yes, ma'am." And he kissed her. That was the end of that fight.

They worked together late into the night, every night. Only once did Gibbs have to come in to get them. It was well past midnight and Callie still hadn't come out of the restaurant. In fact, Jethro had seen no movement of any kind for some time. Not realizing that the two had been in the kitchen talking and finishing off the last of the tiramisu, Gibbs burst through the kitchen door, his gun drawn. Tony had instantly grabbed Cali to protect her. Realizing the two were okay, just young, dumb and in love, Gibbs didn't say anything. He just shook his head, holstered his weapon and turned around and walked out. Tony smiled. Cali, peeking out from behind Tony, only giggled and then quickly followed after her father.

The Saturday of the wedding, they started cooking at eight. By noon, everything was ready. They went upstairs to Tony's apartment to get dressed.

Tony came out of his room in his dress uniform. "Look at this." Tony exclaimed, "I've been back here less than three weeks and I've already put on enough weight that the jacket's tight. How is that possible?"

He looked up into Cali's admiring and loving glance. Tony was frozen in place. She swallowed as she walked closer to him and said quietly, "I think you look very handsome, Tonio. And you needed a little weight."

He leaned down into the kiss. This beautiful, headstrong, familiar girl had won Anthony DiNozzo's heart. When they broke from their kiss, she was breathless.

"If we're late, your father will kill me." Tony whispered.

She smiled, "Yes, he will."

They left the apartment hand in hand.

* * *

The wedding was small, intimate and beautiful. Tim and Tony were resplendent in their dress uniforms; any signs of the devastation and heartache they had seen in Europe miles away. As Cali came down the aisle, Tony couldn't stop smiling. Her dark red hair accented the green floral print of the dress. The flowers made her look more like she should be skipping than walking, but Tony couldn't tear his gaze away from the beautiful Gibbs girl. He watched her all the way up to the altar. As Abby entered the church, escorted by her father, every person turned to watch. Every person but Tony, who only had eyes for Cali. And Gibbs, who could only close his eyes and shake his head, knowing that the next time he was in church it would be for Cali's wedding.

As soon as the vows were read and the now married couple exited the church, Tony, Cali and Gibbs left for the restaurant. They quickly changed and started putting the finishing touches on the bridal feast. The tables were lined up in one long row in the middle of the restaurant, all set with the best of the dishes Tony had. The bread and olive oil was already on the table as the guests started flowing in. The Sciuto family brought several bottles of fine red wine. The McGee's brought several bottles of Irish whiskey.

Tony knew he'd have to give the wedding toast. Taking two wine glasses, he slipped into the kitchen and filled them with grape juice. Coming back out by Gibbs, he set one down in front of him. Jethro looked up to see Tony with a glass and gave him a glare.

Tony leaned down, "A promise kept, Jethro." And smiled.

Gibbs picked up his own glass and tasted it. He laughed to himself as Tony took his place next to McGee. With the food ready, Tony called for the attention of the gathered families and turned to the happy couple.

"It is my honor to be the first one to publicly congratulate Mr. and Mrs. Timothy McGee." Tim and Abby looked to each other and got even closer as Tony continued, "To you both I wish a long and prosperous life, a gloriously happy marriage and children with the beauty of their mother," as Tony gestured towards Abby, and then turned to Tim, "and the heart and courage of their father." Tim smiled appreciatively. "Saluda!!"

"Saluda!" the crowd responded.

The happy couple finally left around ten that night. The families followed after that. By midnight, the restaurant was empty except for Cali, Tony and Gibbs.

Tony yawned as he said, "What a mess but it'll keep to tomorrow."

Cali leaned in, placing her hand intimately on Tony's leg, "I'll come help."

Tony leaned in to Cali, "I accept." And kissed her.

"Does it matter to either of you that I'm sitting right here?" Was the disgusted response of the Sheriff.

They broke apart quickly, Cali smiling. Tony had the decency to look somewhat guilty. "I'll just go put this stuff in the refrigerator." Cali stood up and grabbed several pans full of food.

Tony and Jethro both stood as she left. Gibbs spoke, "You gonna walk her home?"

Tony turned around, "You might want to stay for a few more minutes."

Jethro looked questioningly but he didn't have time to ask as Cali came back from the kitchen. Pulling something from his pocket, Tony got down on one knee to block Cali's path. Gibbs was standing slightly behind and to Tony's left, watching.

"Cali, I am far from perfect. Everything I own in this world is right here, in this building." He motioned up and around. "But I give you my solemn word, if you'll have me, you will always have a roof over your head. You will never go hungry. You will always be safe and protected. And, above all, you will always be loved and cherished. I've made this vow to you in front of your father because he knows, if I make a promise, I will keep it. So, will you, Cali Gibbs? Will you marry me?"

The ring he offered her was a simple silver band with three set pearls, a perfect compliment to the teardrop necklace Cali had worn every day since Tony put it around her neck. She reached up and touched Tony's face lovingly and then made eye contact with her dad. Her greatest wish now fulfilled, she knew what her answer was going to be. Her father's blessing would make it easier.

Gibbs had known it was coming. He was surprised Tony had done it in his presence but he was honored, none the less. He smiled warmly at his daughter and gave her an imperceptible nod.

"Yes, Tonio." And he stood up and kissed her, embracing her tightly. Remembering what else he needed to do, Tony turned, with Cali still in his arms. He extended his right hand.

"Thank you, Jethro, for everything."

Returning the hand shake, Gibbs replied, "You're welcome, Anthony."


	15. Chapter 15

The buzzing sound cut through Tony's brain, bringing him to his senses. He rolled off the couch, calling, "Coming! Coming!" As the bell to his apartment kept ringing.

Throwing open the door, he was surprised to see the boss. Without thinking and still foggy from his dreams he said, "Jethro?"

The look on Gibbs' face was priceless. Tony gave himself a mental shake and then quickly said, "Uh, Boss. Yeah. Come on in." And moved away from the door.

Not knowing what to think of his addled Senior Field Agent, Gibbs entered the apartment. "You okay, DiNozzo?"

"Yes, sir. I'm fine." Again, Jethro quirked an eyebrow at the formal address.

Tony quickly looked down at the wrinkled and stained t-shirt he'd been wearing. He motioned towards himself and then to the bedroom. Gibbs nodded understanding that Tony was going to change shirts. DiNozzo called out, "Any news from Ziva?'

Gibbs walked around the apartment. It was neater than he expected. With his enforced confinement and the difficulties of the last few weeks, Gibbs was uncertain how his Senior Field Agent would react. Tony had apparently just been very sound asleep when he decided to drop by – nothing else, much to Jethro's relief. Gibbs finally responded, "No, and I don't expect anything any time soon."

Tony quickly came back into the main living area, pulling the shirt down gingerly over his injured shoulder. "Well, the one thing I know is that Ziva's a survivor."

Gibbs nodded his agreement and finished, "When she needs us, she'll contact us. Until then, we wait."

Tony nodded. "So, why are you here?"

Gibbs hesitated. He had always liked Anthony DiNozzo. His quick wit and impetuous ways were always a welcome counterbalance to Gibbs seriousness and cautious nature. He got aggravated with the agent but, when the chips were down, he wanted Tony to be the one to have his six.

Tony waited patiently for a response. "It's been a tough couple of weeks on you, DiNozzo. I just felt like I needed to come check on you, okay? Don't read anything into it." Gibbs tried to dismiss how it sounded.

Tony smiled. "Thanks, boss. I appreciate it, but, really, I'm fine. I promise."

"Okay, so I'll just go." And Gibbs started for the door but Tony stopped him.

"Say, Gibbs, have you had dinner? Would you wanna go grab a bite to eat? My treat?"

"What, DiNozzo, you asking me on a date?" was the droll reply.

Tony stepped closer to his boss. "No, sir, not a date. Just an opportunity to thank you. I am where I am; I've accomplished what I've accomplished because of you. Your leadership, encouragement and friendship. And, I've just never said thank you."

"You were never expected to, Tony."

"I know, Boss. But I do have some manners and I know enough to know that I should have, at least once or twice, said it."

And Tony extended his hand to Leroy Jethro Gibbs, "Thank you."

Gibbs returned the handshake, "You're welcome, Anthony." The silence was awkward for a few minutes until Gibbs said, "Are we going or what?"

"Oh, yeah. Okay!" And as they headed out, Tony said, "Man, I was having the weirdest dream. I was this World War II veteran, see, and…" And he closed the door to the apartment.


End file.
